


25 Days of Tomki Christmas Tales

by crazyrayray113



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:28:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 26,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyrayray113/pseuds/crazyrayray113
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty five short stories chronicling Tom and Loki's first Christmas together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Choosing a Tree

**Author's Note:**

> I needed something to do for the 25 days until Christmas! As if I don't have a million other things to be working on… If anyone has any suggestions of holiday traditions they'd like to see, feel free to send me a message! Enjoy!

Loki was not overly fond of cars. Though he wasn’t particularly fond of anything involving said _Midgardian technology._ Of course, once he’d gotten the computer to work, he loved it more than was probably healthy. And by that, he had found ways to use it for his more nefarious ends. So perhaps it was better he disliked driving. When he finally got around to loving cars, he’d probably be scaring innocent pedestrians with feigned attempts at vehicular manslaughter. Which is why Tom drove to avoid such inevitabilities. He much preferred to have him whining in the passenger seat than running someone over from the driver’s seat.

They pulled into the parking lot after one of their more trying drives. Loki wasn’t fond of cars, so traffic only made it worse. More than once he’d threatened the surrounding drivers, but for the time of year, that was the most normal thing he’d done the entire way there.

Loki peered out the window, before giving him a partly grumpy, mostly confused look. “I thought these lots were meant for storing cars. Not trees.”

“Lots serve many purposes, darling. Today, this one is a tree farm.”

“Tree _farm_?”

Tom nodded with a grin he could hardly contain. Switching off the ignition, he quickly tied his scarf again before hopping out of the car. Loki followed suit, tucking his hands into his coat pockets with his best uncaring face. Tom was already praying that he could rouse him from the whole scrooge aura. After all, the holidays had only just begun. And it was their very first Christmas together and he intended to make the most of it. Even if it involved dragging him through things he deemed extremely trivial and irritating. But that was Loki.

The air was thick with the scent of evergreens. He took a long inhale, savoring it for as long as he could before releasing it in a puff of smoke. The large space echoed with chainsaws and scratchy holiday tunes wafting over from a neighboring store. Loki rocked a bit on his heels, looking more out of place than the trees did in the parking lot. “Shall we?” he finally asked, motioning toward the bristly line up. Without a word, Loki tucked an arm around his and Tom dragged them into the temporary forest.

Shuffling through the aisles thick with dead needles, Tom angled them toward the trees more within his budget. Loki flicked a few of the price tags absently, the same confused curve to his brow.

“Thomas, tell me once more why we are _purchasing_ a tree when there are hundreds of them surrounding your flat that are free for the taking?”

“Because, darling, that would be stealing. And besides, not just any tree will do. We have to find the right one.”

“Of course, because the fabled man in the red jump suit has certain tree specifications. Honestly, Thomas, that makes absolutely no sense.”

Tom laughed. First act of Christmas mischief was ironically his. Why not instill a little magic of his own? So long as the Santa myth held up. “Maybe I just want a nice tree, Loki.”

They walked the rows with a measured step, stopping occasionally to admire this one or that one. Loki seemed to find fault in all of them. Too short. Too skinny. Lop sided. Just plain ugly. And other such comments. They’d come nearly to the end when one finally caught Tom’s eye. “What about this one?” It was a fair size for its species but a very bright green. Nearly the perfect shade for Loki’s taste. The shape was almost perfectly conical, though it bowed out a bit more at the bottom. And it was wonderfully bushy. The perfect blank canvas for decorating. Sure a bit of trimming was in order, but it was lovely all the same.

Loki quirked an eyebrow, cocking his head to one side as he stared at it. He didn’t appear convinced. Tom stood next to it gesturing like a game show host as he came forward and resumed his examination up close, turning it around and yanking at the branches until he was satisfied. “Yes. This one will do.”

“Are you sure?” Tom joked.

“If you love this one, than this is the one we shall get.”

Tom smiled, leaning in to peck him on the cheek. His skin was warm in comparison to the ever-cooling winter air. “Perfect! All right then. You guard it and I’ll go find a salesman.”

It was an endearing mix of heart warming and alarming to find him standing beside their tree, glaring at anyone who came to close. He knew well enough by now that when Loki staked a claim on something, it was hardly worth the effort to take it from him. Tom returned just as he was scaring off a few passing children. “He’s going to wrap it up for us,” Tom said, before he gave the salesman a similar glare.

They watched as he quickly trimmed it for them, Loki eyeing the chainsaw with distaste, before neatly securing it within its plastic net. Tom dragged it a few feet before Loki rolled his eyes and hefted it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. “Wouldn’t want to damage your lovely tree, Thomas,” he chided with a sickening smile.

“Have you given any thought to the decorations?” he asked, linking arms again and feeding off the body heat he normally didn’t exude.

“I still don’t understand why a tree needs decoration.”

“It’s a tradition, love. That’s all you need to know.”

When they reached the car, Loki slid their tree onto the roof and quickly went about securing it. Tom rubbed his hands together, his breath failing to warm them in the bitter cold as Loki finished tying down the tree. “Ready?” Loki asked, leering at him over the car, his smirk just below his line of sight.

“Yeah, I’m freezing. Let’s go home.”

Both doors slammed shut and they were quickly on their way again, the traffic thankfully lighter in the opposite direction. Loki still stared out the window, but Tom thought he saw him watching the ropes, ensuring their tree was safe for the journey home. “Thank you for coming,” Tom said, another smile pulling at his lips.

Loki just smiled – Tom’s favorite smile – the one that would only and always be reserved for him.


	2. Deck the Halls

Loki watched from his stead on the sofa as Tom unloaded another box from the attic. He had so far accumulated an enormous mass of things supposedly decorative on the floor around the pull down ladder. There were tons of plastic bins, all with colorful, mismatched lids and each was labeled “X-MAS” on peeling stickers. _Was it not simpler to spell it out?_ Arranged haphazardly atop those, was a veritable forest of synthetic greenery strung on wire. It coiled about on the carpet like a snake. Some it was formed into neater circles and then adorned with large red bows on the bottom. And then there were more boxes. He read a few more labels: lights, ornaments, stockings, and the like. None of which made much sense with his lacking knowledge of their holiday context.

With a huff, Tom finally hopped down, another bush of garland in his arms. Adding it to the mess, he quickly folded the ladder back into its keep. He gave it one final jab with the end of the broom for good measure. “Okay,” he said, exhaling an exaggerated breath. “I think that’s all of it.”

“I was beginning to wonder,” Loki replied with a grin before sinking further into the couch. And then he nearly fell off as Tom flopped down beside him, disturbing all of the unsuspecting cushions.

“You’re helping, you know,” he declared, poking him in the ribs.

“But your sense of aesthetic is so much better than mine, Thomas. Surely you would do a much better job.”

“You’re helping regardless. I carted all this shit out of the attic by myself, now you’re helping. Come on. Up! Let’s go!”

Loki sat up with a grimace, peering at the mess of décor again. This already seemed trying and he’d yet to even learn what this project entailed. Finally getting up – or rather, being dragged up – he picked his way through the pile, the garland scratching at his ankles in the most unpleasant way.

“So where shall we start?” Tom asked with far too much enthusiasm.

“I have no idea,” he dryly replied.

Tom smiled, once more taking plenty of amusement from his misunderstanding of this festival of gift giving called _Christmas_. “All right, we’ll start with the garland then.” He dug around in the pile for a while, searching for the end apparently and when he finally resurfaced, he took off up the stairs with the garland lapping at his heels, scattering little bits of plastic confetti in its wake. Loki watched then as he descended again, slowly, methodically winding the stuff around the banister. And by the time Tom reached him again he’d made a perfect spiral. “And this is festive?” Loki inquired.

“All about the ambiance, my love. Now we just cover the entire room.”

“I hate this already.”

Tom laughed before he shuffled off, his socks sliding easy on the hardwood floor. Off to find more ways to torture him. Winter alone left a bad taste in his mouth for more reasons than one. And now there was this obscene holiday to deal with on top of that. He sighed. But it was a holiday spent in Tom’s company and one he was obviously excited about. So he picked through the mess of garland and found a strand of his own before eyeing the room for a place to stick it. He’d watched absently a thousand times as the palace attendants decorated for many a feast in his time; surely this wasn’t so difficult. Tom did so effortlessly and he could certainly do the same. Finally he settled on the open doorway that led into the kitchen where Tom was noisily fussing with something.

He imagined the abhorrent evergreen snake would look passible framed around the doorway but how in the realms to make it stay up there? After finding no earthly solution, he arranged it one section at a time, breathing a quiet spell overtop it until it was sound and secure, draped rather nicely around the space. Not so difficult after all. He lined the front windows next and then the mantle of the fireplace. He’d gone through half the garland when all of the sudden the kitchen was blaring some obnoxious tune about _decking the halls_.

“How appropriate,” Tom noted, coming back into the living room. “Wow.” Loki tried to look unconcerned as he admired the job he’d done. He poked one of the strands with a curious look. “How did you get that to stay there?”

“Well magic obviously. How else was I to accomplish that?”

Tom shrugged. “Good point.”

“So what’s next?”

“You can do the railings outside too, if you want?”

Loki nodded, dragging the rest of it outside. He made short work of the front porch, duplicating Tom’s demonstration perfectly on the short flight of steps down to the street. As he lined the outside of the front window, he could see Tom fussing with a strand of lights attempting to do the same thing, balanced awkwardly on the sofa. The drapes would be on the floor before he finally managed it. When Tom finally caught him staring, he made a face and smushed his nose against the glass.

Loki went back to his work with a laugh that fogged the air around him. He stuck the final lengths of garland around the front door before slipping back inside. Tom was humming along to a new song on the radio. Another overly cheery melody. Left alone for a few minutes and he’d spattered all of the garland with little gold balls and tiny lights. Now he was hanging what appeared to be extra large socks above the fireplace.

“Care to explain?” he asked, already prepared for his child-worthy explanation of yet another odd Midgardian custom.

“Christmas stockings. So long as you’re well behaved, Father Christmas will leave gifts inside.”

“Inside a sock?”

“Not just any old sock.”

Loki nodded. “Right. And not just an ordinary tree. Of course. And what happens if I haven’t been well behaved?” Loki added with his most devious grin.

“If that’s the case, then it’s coal for you, I’m afraid.” _Coal?_ _What in the realm is this logic?_ “Perhaps he’ll be more lenient, given you are the God of Mischief. It’s your job to some degree.”

“I think it merely depends what he defines as _well behaved_.” Loki pressed closer, his arm slung low around his waist until Tom expectantly parted his lips waiting for that tiny gesture which would undoubtedly lead them to a world of misbehavior. But Loki only smiled, leaning over him to grab the stocking he’d yet to hang. Tom’s already dangled above the fireplace – a bright red sock with white fur trim and then his name written upon it with a fancy script. The one he now held was green with black fur and his name embroidered in shiny, gold runes.

“I had it custom made for you a few months ago. It was surprisingly impossible to find a stocking in your colors – and a company willing to embroider in another language.”

Loki smiled, finally giving him the kiss he’d been waiting for, though not the one he’d been expecting. Regardless of its odd and seemingly senseless purpose, it was perfect. He hung the green stocking beside Tom’s and flipped off the lights before they retired to the sofa again. This time to simply admire. Softly twinkling lights like stars in the darkness, lost amidst the deep green tones of winter foliage. Tiny ornaments and table drapes and a scent carried from celebrations past. The Christmas ambiance. _I think I could get used to it._


	3. Under the Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter is rated NSFW for holiday smuttiness. >)

Tom was shortly back to work again, finding more and more things to set out, even as dusk settled fully upon them and the pink hues of the winter sky disappeared into darkness. After hanging a few wreaths and adorning the tables with glass bowls of ornaments, he began packing away the empty boxes. He accumulated a pile to be put away in the attic again and another into the corner, where they’d set up their tree the night before. Tom had assured him there was unfortunately more decorating to be done. Loki only shrugged sitting down on the steps and absently tossing empty ornament cartons into a box with a completely different label. “I’m sure you’ve already concocted worse torments for the days to come.”

“I would never do anything to intentionally irritate you, Loki,” Tom said sincerely, replacing the ornament cartons in the proper box. “The holidays aren’t so bad when you find the right ways to spend them.” He began rummaging around in the last of the boxes and suddenly emerged with a rather odd grin and quiet declaration of surprise.

“What now?”

“It seems we forgot something.”

_Well that sounds ominous._ With a brief rustling of paper he finally brought a tiny bushel of green and red and white where he could see. “Mistletoe,” Loki said with a smile. Finally something he could identify. It wasn’t the live plant, he noticed, but instead a synthetic representation tied in a little red bow with a string loop at the top.

“You know what this is?”

“ _Viscum album._ A poisonous, parasitic, and very devious plant. But it is still only a plant, Thomas,” he coyly replied.

“So you’re now aware of its holiday significance then?”

Loki’s grin surely betrayed him. “I have heard a thing or too, but I can only vaguely recall. Perhaps you can remind me,” he said rising to his feet. He crossed the room in a few long strides, invading Tom’s personal space until he’d backed him into the door jam. “Enlighten me, love,” he said darkly as he took the mistletoe and tacked it to the frame of the door above their heads.

“Custom says,” he began, peering up at it, averting his eyes from Loki’s purely lust-filled gaze. “Custom says when two people meet beneath the mistletoe, they’re supposed to- to uh-” His explanation was suddenly smothered by Loki’s hungry kiss. He tugged at his lips until they were swollen and red, only parting to come up for air. And only when it was absolutely necessary. Tom was nearly slack against him, his chest heaving and face fairly flushed. “That custom, my love, is one I know well.” Loki laughed quietly, loving the blush that rose in his cheeks. “So tell me,” he began, his hands finding a place on his hips holding him steady while he caught his breath. “What else might we do under the mistletoe?” He nuzzled into his neck, his lips gently pulling at the skin around his ear and down his jaw. Tom shivered. “Because I can think of a few things.”

His dexterous fingers trailed down until they traced the edge of his pants, his thumb circling the silver button as he continued to nibble Tom’s neck. His fingers followed the zipper, smiling at the bulge in the denim. “Already excited, are we?”

Tom tugged him closer, his hips rising to Loki’s subtle touch. “Yes. _We_ are,” he said, grinding against him until Loki couldn’t restrain a growl. He found the closures of his pants again and soon he was sliding his jeans over his hips, along with his boxers. “Loki,” Tom hissed as his lover sank down on his knees, eyeing his throbbing length. Tom’s back was suddenly stiff, pressed tight against the doorframe as Loki’s tongue slid over his cock, just once. Loki’s hands slid down his back before he dug into his backside, raking his nails over the sensitive flesh. And then he braced his hips tight before taking him into his mouth.

He took one long drag before releasing him again, the tip of his tongue probing the tiny slit over and over until pre-cum coated his tongue. His tongue traced up and back, base to tip, following the more defined veins. He swirled around the base, nipping at the sensitive skin of his balls until Tom made another deliciously inhuman sound. He heard Tom’s head meet the wood behind him, already long lost in the sensation as Loki’s mouth completely enveloped him again, his cheeks hollowing at a slow and torturous pace. Loki could see the smile that pulled at his lips, the laugh that stuck in his throat only to be released as another lovely moan. He felt his hand suddenly knot in his thick black hair, pushing him, silently begging for a quicker end to the torment. “ _Loki_ ,” he growled, his hips bucking slightly against Loki’s hold, which only tightened further.

He took him as far as he could, until he felt him hit the back of his throat. And he did so over and over again until he felt him start to tense. Tom’s hand braced the tiny bit of wall behind him his nails digging into the wood in spite of the garland that now covered it. _Come on, love. You’re close. I can feel it._ Loki growled, the sound, the vibration just enough. Tom keened, the sound smothered by the small room, as he came. Loki swallowed contentedly before finally releasing him, kissing the tip before tucking him into his pants again. Tom sunk to the floor, his head still resting against the doorframe as Loki soon mirrored him on the other side, their long legs slightly tangled in the doorway.

“Are you going to do that – every time – every time I walk into the kitchen?” he breathed, glancing up at him with a well-sated smile.

“Tradition only dictates a kiss, I’m afraid.” Loki leaned forward softy kissing him, his taste still lingering on his lips. “But you might convince me to make an exception or two.”


	4. Christmas Sweaters and Reindeer Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve always imagined that Tom and Loki would get into a very wide array of shenanigans. All of which is totally normal… for them.

Napping quietly in his preferred armchair, Loki was completely unsuspecting – totally unaware that Tom was creeping across the living room with surprising stealth. He was never really sure when Loki was asleep. Every time he thought he knew, he was usually wrong. And then he’d end up making an absolute fool of himself for one reason or another. Loki took an insane amount of pride in his mischievous nature. It entertained him to no end to see Tom flustered and frustrated and most assuredly outmatched. Tom tried now and again to get even but he simply didn’t have the prankster gene.

Regardless, he crept across the hardwood floor being as silent as humanly possible, all the while listening carefully to ensure he wasn’t secretly going to ambush him from across the room or some other magic nonsense. They’d deemed that cheating long ago, but Loki didn’t care.

He had to be asleep. Tom could hear him breathing softly as he came upon the back of the chair. He dared to lean over him just a bit to find his eyes closed, his neck slumped at an uncomfortable angle. He was so adorable asleep. There was no menace or mayhem _for now_. So Tom smiled before he gingerly placed the Santa hat on his head and then bee lined for the other side of the room as Loki was instantly awake again. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before glaring at the bright red, fur trimmed hat the sat sideways on his mop of black hair. The little white ball on the end bopped him in the face as he sat up, like a cat thoroughly _not_ amused with its owners ball of yarn.

“What in the Nine is this?”

“That would be a Santa hat.”

He flicked the little ball away from his face. “It’s awful.”

“It’s not so bad. They’re festive,” he said, donning one of his own.

“Are we not done with these _festivities_ yet?”

“Of course not! Christmas is still weeks away.”

Loki grumbled, folding his arms across his chest before the Santa hat vanished in a poof of green smoke only to reappear on top of the one Tom was already wearing. “You’re right. Not the best fit.” Loki almost breathed a sigh of relief before Tom replaced it with pair of antlers. “Much better!” He stepped back and squinted, eyeing him like an expensive painting before he couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s oddly appropriate, don’t you think?”

Loki glanced in the mirror to find his new adornment, a brown pair of fabric antlers affixed to a plastic headband. He looked less than amused when he turned back to face him again. “Are you mocking my helmet?” he inquired dryly.

Tom laughed again. “Of course not.” He pondered his new headgear a moment longer. “Oh and I have just the thing to go with it!”

It was positively the ugliest sweater he’d ever seen. He had a natural inclination towards sweaters, but this – this was just ridiculous. It was that certain holiday sweater that everyone had that was so awful you only kept it for shits and giggles. Or you disposed of it properly. Tom held it up and saw Loki’s eyes visibly widen. It was an even brighter shade of red than the Santa hat, if that were possible. It was covered with little white snowflakes and right smack in the middle was a cartoon Rudolph with a smile that was absolutely bonkers. Supposedly his nose actually lit up at one point, but that didn’t bear thinking about.

“No no no,” Loki was suddenly chanting. “No, no you are not making me wear that.” Tom pushed it closer and he recoiled like it was poisonous. “What is that thing?” He was glaring at the little reindeer with utter disdain.

“Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.”

“Preposterous. That looks nothing like a reindeer.”

“I think it looks okay,” Tom said pointedly, looking it over again. Of course, he had second thoughts when he looked up to find an actual reindeer standing in his living room. _Wait what?_ Yes, there was most certainly a four hundred pound reindeer standing in Loki’s stead, still wearing the little antler headband – though it was now awkwardly wedged between a very real and very large rack. He’d never seen a reindeer in person before. Pony sized with shaggy brown and silver fur. His eyes were still bright green and he was glaring in a way that made him very nervous. His hooves scuffed the floor and he made a sound Tom couldn’t quite place. Maybe like a goat? He scuffed his feet against the hardwood looking all too ready to run him over. “Loki, that’s not funny.”

He snorted and shook his head free of the flimsy antler headband before angling the impaling device that was now his head. “Loki – don’t.” That never worked. Tom sprinted into the kitchen, sliding into the fridge as Loki’s antlers thankfully stuck in the door, too wide to fit through. “Ha!” he said, flying back to his feet and taking off towards the dining room. His snout curled into a snarl not quite fitting of a reindeer. Or any deer for that matter.  Tom quickly circled around, slipping back into the living room just as Loki’s headgear nearly cleared the entire coffee table. He made another loud noise before he was charging towards him again. Tom hopped onto the chair and then dove for the sofa as Loki just continued to rearrange the furniture behind him.

“Loki, I wasn’t really going to make you wear the sweater!” Tom finally admitted when he’d been pinned to the wall, antlers caging him in place. Loki huffed unconvinced before bopping him sideways and then walking away. He quickly found the sweater where Tom had dropped it in his haste to escape and promptly began chewing on it. “Loki! Have you no table manners? I know it’s a hideous sweater but you don’t have to eat it!” Loki laughed, his usual laugh almost audible as he continued to gnaw through the fabric. “Come on, Loki! My mother gave that to me!”

“Does she hate you?” Loki laughed, finally shifting back but still with the sweater hanging out of his mouth.

“No. She never intended for me to wear it.” Tom yanked it out of his mouth, staring at the hole he’d chewed through Rudolph’s face. _How barbaric._ But he sealed the hole shut again without a second glance. “You know, one of these times you’re going to permanently break something.”

“Yes. And it is more than likely going to be you, my oh-so-fragile mortal,” Loki chided, swatting him with the antler headband before he disappeared upstairs for the night.


	5. Trimming the Tree

It was obvious within a few days that Loki’s capacity for festive celebrations was a bit lacking. But he was a little less stubborn everyday. Since buying their tree it had sat unadorned in the corner, awaiting a slew of decorations. And Loki had tended to it with the utmost care. He’d find him watering it every night, fussing with the branches to ensure they were perfectly placed, not drooping or falling off. The first time he’d been genuinely surprised. He often seemed so disinterested it was like he wasn’t paying attention, but he must have taken note the first night they brought it home. So he’d pretended not to notice every night since.

Which is probably why he objected slightly less when Tom suggested they decorate it. Of course, it could have been the promise of no further decorating afterwards that swayed Loki’s usually inflexible opinion. But he smiled, this time assisting in unpacking and shortly discovering the horror that was Christmas lights. He yanked the mass of green wire and tiny glass bulbs from the tub, but thankfully he only sighed, maintaining a state of optimism that for him was applaudable.

“Just so you know,” Tom said, unpacking more ornaments and the little metal hooks. “I don’t always enjoy doing this stuff. I’ve lived here alone for a while and it’s mostly a hassle when you’re only doing it for the occasional guest, it’s exciting to have you this year. There’s more purpose for it, you know?” Loki was still staring at the lights. “I guess I’m just happy to share these things with you.” Loki looked up, a slightly unreadable expression – probably still contemplating the lights. “Even if you hate all of it.”

“I don’t really hate it,” he quickly replied. “The majority of your customs, celebratory or not, are strange and beyond my patience ordinarily, but you’re right. I’m happy to share all of it with you, trying as it may seem.” He hefted the ball of wiring and lights with an almost worried look. “Is there some sort of trick to this?”

Tom was still stuck on his heart-warming admission. “No,” he finally said. “No matter what I do, no matter how careful I am they always seem to tangle themselves before the next year.”

“Well, so long as it’s not some tradition of unraveling the lights and my patience.” Another bout of magic and the strands of lights had all but corrected themselves, untangled and ready without Tom having to expend all of his patience with a halfhearted attempt. “This just got so much easier.” Now all he had to do was ensure there wasn’t that one light bulb that refused to light. Always the tragedy. Every single year.

But this evening was better. Loki wound the lights artfully into the tree, ensuring every inch was properly lit top to bottom. Tom set out the ornaments before getting to work on a few strands of popcorn garland. He watched from the couch as Loki arranged the ornaments and judging by the curve to his brow, he put far too much thought into the placement of each one. But the effort was admirable. There was more than likely some complex pattern to it all, each little ball placed according to color or size. Regardless, it already looked wonderful.

When he finally finished with the popcorn, Loki added that as well, laying it this way and that. And next was the tinsel. Every year, the tinsel went out to the curb with the tree. It was never worth the hassle of painstakingly picking out the tiny silver strands. Loki took a box of his own, watching as Tom gingerly tossed a handful onto the tree. It dusted the tree like a shimmery snow, one square inch at a time. Loki followed his lead, still attempting to be meticulous about it. _We’re going to be here all night if he insists on hand laying each piece of tinsel._

Tom threw another handful, this time more in his general direction, intentionally messing up whatever delicate decorating he was doing. He didn’t respond, only moved further to the other side. Tom’s next handful landed in his hair. It was an odd look for him, the silver standing out against his black curls like a wig he’d seen at a Halloween store once. He blew an exaggerated puff of air and a few strands drifted to the floor, a few sticking on the tree. But then Tom did it again, this time until Loki was sputtering and spitting the silver slivers from his mouth. He disposed of a few that had stuck to his lips with a telling smile, before heaping the rest of his box at him.

Tom had bought a few extra boxes this season, but by the end of the night there was more on the floor and on them than on the actual tree. The hardwood turned unnaturally slippery in the mess but they somehow remained standing, hands all over each other like that would make the tinsel stick better to the flesh of their enemy. Surely they’d be finding it until next Christmas. And in places tinsel really didn’t belong. After the battle had calmed, Tom sat on the coffee table, chest shaking with laughter and his curls a general mess and now with sprigs of tinsel sticking out in every conceivable direction.

Loki scooped up most of the tinsel and went back to arranging it _his_ way, though with a little less forethought. Another win for Loki. Not surprising. When he was finally satisfied and the floor was no longer a danger zone, he stood again, wrapping an arm around Loki’s waist as he admired their tree. “It looks beautiful, darling. Absolutely wonderful. Your esthetics are hardly questionable.” Loki might have blushed but what he couldn’t hide was lost in the glow of the Christmas tree. “Would you like to put the star on top?”

“Yes,” he declared with a smile. “I would actually.”


	6. Christmas Wishes

Loki was more than grateful for Tom’s surprising lack of work. In the months they’d been together, they hardly had the time to simply be lounging around the flat like this. Normally, Tom was making regular moves between hotels and dealing with a painfully unstable schedule. Loki was lucky to sneak him away from the pile of projects he was nursing for even a moment. Especially with all of the press for his latest film that had preceded these _holidays_. If such festivities always entailed such free time and lazy days, he could certainly learn to love them.

Curled into the corner of the couch, Tom had yet to get out of his pajamas today. Between his baggy clothes and his mismatched socks, he was a vision of cozy. The couch beside him was calling Loki’s name. He suddenly had an insatiable urge to curl up next to him and just burrow into his arms until his scent completely surrounded him. It was yet another display of affection reserved only for him. His mortal. _Mine._

The expression on his face was unusual, like deep contemplation. Not unlike that pained look he got when he tried to do arithmetic in his head. While he was mindlessly straightening in the kitchen, he’d thought Tom was just reading or playing those games in the newspaper. But upon closer inspection he was scribbling on a tiny notepad, occasionally staring off into the distance without any real focus. Finally Loki succumbed to his curiosity and squished in beside him. He nestled in with a sigh, casually peering into his lap to see what he was doing. Clearly a list of some sort, but after scanning through it several times, he couldn’t find any correlation, unless it was simply things that he liked.

“What are you up to?” he inquired at last.

“Just making a list.”

 _How vague of you, Thomas._ “A list of what?”

“It’s a Christmas list.”

 _I should have known._ Christmas was a gift-giving holiday after all. He snatched the list from him, eyeing its contents a bit more closely now. It was an odd and at the same time ordinary collection of things – for Tom anyway. There were multiple items pertaining to this Shakespeare person Tom had forced him to become so well acquainted with. There was a spattering of books, a few mundane and necessary things, a sweater of some sort, and the usual assortment of sweets. Typical Tom. “You think I don’t know you well enough to find you a gift?”

“You don’t have to get me a gift, Loki. Though I’m sure you’d have no trouble. I usually make one for my mum and my sisters. But I have to make one for Father Christmas as well.”

Loki rolled his eyes, handing the list back to him. “Surely your magical gift giving sleigh rider already knows what you’d like for the holidays. If he is as all powerful as you’ve described.”

“Well, he does have thousands of other people to deliver to. It’s courteous to send a list and make it a little bit easier. You should make one.”

Loki grumbled, sitting up a bit and folding his arms across his chest. “Must I?”

“No,” Tom said quickly. “But if you expect gifts on Christmas, then you should make one.” Tom ripped a piece of paper from his notepad and flopped it over his head. He attempted to balance the pen on top of that, but it simply rolled off to land in his lap.

Loki flipped over to cover the rest of the sofa, laying his legs in Tom’s lap. “Shall I address it to this Mr. Clause?”

“Logically. And a please and thank you wouldn’t hurt either.”

Loki began scratching away, constructed the most formal and pleasant introduction he could manage. And then it came time to make the actual list. And he drew a very large blank. “Could your Father Christmas acquire gifts beyond this realm?” he asked, this time without sarcasm.

Tom frowned with the same seriousness. “Well seeing how I didn’t get a lightsaber when I asked for one a few years ago, I’m going to say no.”

 _That makes things difficult._ For the occasional gift giving holidays in Asgard, he normally received any number of Asgardian books and weapons and seithr related gifts. Obviously not doable under these new circumstances. So he pondered this list for the longest time until settling on a few things he’d noted with favor in passing as well as a few things he thought the old man of Christmas might be able enough to procure. After a while he’d amounted a fair amount of things to give him a few options. When he was finally satisfied, having put a small word of thanks at the bottom and inscribed it with his signature, he neatly folded it before poking Tom with it repeatedly.

“I guess you’re finished?” Loki only continued to poke him. “Shall we send it to him?” That thought had hardly occurred to him. Tom took the letter from him, folding it up with his own. Across the room, Tom lit the fireplace and soon it had grown to a roaring blaze. And he’d yet to figure out what that had to do with sending their lists to the magical man in red. “Are we sending these or not?” Tom asked with a grin, motioning to an empty space on the floor beside him. Loki joined him, folding his long legs and staring quizzically into the fire.

“I don’t understand.”

“Father Christmas lives at the highest point on Earth, the North Pole. So in order to get it to him before Christmas, we burn them in the fireplace and the ashes float up to his workshop.”

“Thomas, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Loki, you turned yourself into a reindeer. That doesn’t make sense either.” Loki shrugged at that, taking back his letter and eyeing the flickering flames. “Together?”

On Tom’s count they tossed them into the fire and the ashes disappeared upward in the plume of smoke, soon to be received by this Santa Clause. Interesting spell of his, Loki thought. _Perhaps I should learn it myself._


	7. Acts of Charity

“Are you sure about this?”

“It’s a giving time of year, Loki.”

“Yes, but is it safe to be among such people? They’re desperate, which by default makes them dangerous. What if something happens to you?”

“Darling, they are homeless people and they are hungry not belligerent. If you are so concerned then come with me. It’s only a few hours. It might be a good experience for you,” Tom continued tugging on his coat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Loki snarled, already pulling his own coat from the closet.

“Everyone needs a little perspective. It keeps your head small. Which is why I do it as often as possible.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Another lesson in humility?”

“We all need a little humility, Loki.” He tucked his scarf into his coat, adjusting the sleeves and gathering up his keys. “I’ll be in the car.”

Loki watched as he stepped out into the bitter cold, quickly rushing out to the street, breathing into his hands until he’d started the car. Loki finished pulling on his coat, but he stared out the window a moment longer before finally following him out. Serving food at the community soup kitchen – certainly not his idea of _spending the evening together._

 They drove across town in silence, which between the two of them was foreboding. Tom was hardly quiet. Ever. But when they reached the kitchen, he perked right up, greeting everyone in passing with season’s greetings and his most exuberant of smiles. And Loki just floated along behind him like a downtrodden shadow. He eyed the mass of shifty looking characters lined up at the front entrance. _This is a terrible idea._

Tom was already inside, now wearing a heinous apron. He chatted with the other volunteers and staff, most likely receiving their instructions. Or perhaps explaining for the hundred millionth time their excuse for looking like twins but behaving like incestuous twins. Always an interesting story. After a moment he trotted over holding another awful apron. Loki tried not to complain as he hung up his coat and replaced it with the previously dirtied smock.

“It’s only for a few hours,” Tom reminded him. “After that, I’m all yours for the rest of the evening.” He slung a reassuring arm around his waist before thoughtfully tightening his apron. _I suppose that’s a fair trade._ Loki was almost hopeful, until a hefty older woman approached them holding something he couldn’t quite identify.

“You’ll have to wear this,” she said, shoving whatever it was into his hand. Loki eyed it curiously before she unfortunately elaborated. “For your long hair.” He stretched the tiny black net between his fingers so incredibly disbelieving. Tom pinched his lips together trying not to smile. And failing. _Yes. This is a terrible idea._

Shortly he found himself lined up behind a counter wearing the cruel Midgardian contraption known as a _hair net_. Not even Tom had something to say for this one. With all his hair shoved into a net atop his head, his curls pooled at the back of his neck and not only did it look ridiculous, it was incredibly itchy. But he kept his mouth shut and followed instructions. _Just get this over with and go home._ And he told himself that over and over again.

With the trays of food before them fully stocked, the room shortly filled with people – men and women and children of every culture and race. Before long, the room was bursting at the seams, the noise shortly overwhelming any hope of conversation. Several hundred people must have passed him as he mindlessly slopped food onto their plates. He glanced at Thomas ever so often, conversing with everyone, smiling like he was feasting with family – people he’d known forever. And Loki was simply stuck in the motions looking genuinely unpleasant.

“Happy Christmas.” Loki looked up and found a young woman staring at him with a bright white smile. He frowned as he spooned some vegetables onto her plate. She seemed out of place here, wearing a nice red petticoat, her hair pulled back and not nearly messed in comparison to some of the surrounding patrons. She seemed too _normal_.

“What are you doing here?” he asked without thinking. Her smiled dulled slightly. “I mean – you seem like you don’t belong in a place like this.”

“Well I wouldn’t say anyone really belongs in a soup kitchen. I recently lost my home in a divorce and with money so tight, things have been difficult for me.” Loki continued to stare. He didn’t know the complicated proceedings involving Midgardian legal connections but so far as he knew, divorce wasn’t a good thing. But to be so simply cast out into the world with nothing? “Thank you,” she said when he didn’t respond. “Thank you for volunteering here – it really does help.” Loki could only nod as she finally walked off to find a seat. He glanced down the line and found Tom watching him with a knowing smile.

The evening passed quickly after that. With closing time approaching, people slowly filtered out. Food was cleaned up and volunteers began straightening the hall again. Loki hung in the corner, fussing his hair now free from the hairnet, watching as Tom wandered between the still vacant tables ensuring that everyone was taken care of, sharing jokes and handing out leftovers he’d packed up. Here lay the matter of perspective, Loki thought. Coming from a life where most everything had always been handed to him – even now with Tom mostly supporting him – he’d never known the poverty these people lived in. Nor had he ever thought they could be so pleasant about it – so grateful for the little they had. _A lesson in humility._

He heard a symphony of Christmas wishes as Tom finally bid the last patrons farewell and he approached, literally glowing – all smiles and cheer. And slowly exhaustion. Tom dragged a hand through Loki’s hair with a grin, noting how it all sort of frizzed and tangled, but ultimately he just twirled his fingers into his curls, his arm wrapping around his shoulders. “Ready to go home?”

The drive home was quiet again, but Loki pondered better thoughts this time.


	8. Ice Skating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was going to be a later story, but we had a freak snowstorm today so we’re beginning the snow shenanigans early!

In spite of being thoroughly exhausted, Tom caught a miraculous second wind on the way home. It was late and the streets were mostly empty with only the occasional car. And it was far too cold for anyone else to be out and about. Since his press and publicity schedule had settled down, Tom had been compiling a list of things for them to do this winter – one that Loki didn’t know about fortunately. And since the cold weather set in he’d been scratching things off one day at a time and Loki indulged him with only mild complaints.

The ice rink had caught his eye in passing many times and long before meeting Loki. Something he’d never done and would most likely be terrible at, but still something to throw on the bucket list. But this time, as he drove past, the smooth, polished and completely unoccupied ice was simply too much to resist. He pulled into the empty parking lot, stirring Loki from his thoughts. He felt that tiny devious flame burn a little brighter all of the sudden. “Where are we?” Loki asked, peering tiredly out the window without even looking up.

“Ice skating rink,” Tom said pulling on his gloves and hat, which he’d stashed in the backseat. He glanced around as he hopped out of the car, noting quickly that there was literally no one around. _Perfect._ Loki was finally getting out of the car as Tom was hopping the wrought iron fence that surrounded the entire establishment.

“Thomas, what in the Nine are you doing?” He followed Tom over without his response, but notably following his lead in scanning for people who might object to his current agenda. And he was very shortly tugging on the door of a locked building to make matters even more interesting.

“Can you get in there?”

“Of course I can get in,” Loki said, scoffing like it was a stupid question. Which is probably was. And then he grinned. “This is so unlike you, Thomas. Wouldn’t this be of questionable legality, my love?”

“Yes, now be quiet about it before I change my mind.” The next thing he knew they were both standing in the shed sized building squished between two walls lined with ice skates in every single color and size. Tucking his gloves into his pockets, Tom quickly pulled down two pairs in their size. He plopped on to the little stool at the counter, now sealed and locked for the night, and started unlacing his shoes. Loki did the same without question, but he was grinning like an idiot. Bring breaking and entering into the mix and suddenly he’s fine with anything. But Tom made a point to stash the appropriate payment where someone would hopefully find it in the morning.

Once they’d both donned their bladed boots, Loki thankfully teleported them as close to the ice as possible to avoid having to wobble from A to B. He glanced around again to ensure they were still alone, though he was fairly certain Loki could divert any suspicious eyes without much trouble. He popped the guards off the bottom of the skates and slipped uncertainly onto the ice. He didn’t fall on his ass immediately, so that was a plus. Loki still watched him, hanging over the rink wall with the same old smile, though this time with a little more enthusiasm. “You’re going to kill yourself,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Probably,” he agreed.

Once he felt relatively stable, he managed to move a few feet in a slow and graceful slide. He half turned and saw Loki just shaking his head. “You coming?” he called, trying not to lose his balance. “God only knows next time I’m going to be this adventurous.” He almost heard Loki sigh before he followed Tom onto the ice, but with much more grace than he had managed.

Tom had thought they’d be equally terrible at ice-skating but Loki had an irritating knack for it. If Tom hadn’t known better, he would have thought he’d been doing it his entire life. He graduated from beginner to speed skater within five minutes and he took the entire ring in stride while Tom tried and failed to keep up. And he could tell without a doubt Loki was silently mocking him, arms folded behind his back as he literally worked circles around him.

On his next pass, he carved a particularly deep groove in the ice, spraying Tom with snow. And then like a true magician – or frost giant perhaps – a tiny ramp grew out from the ice, splintering and squealing in a burst of white fog. Ever the performer, he jumped, landed, and took another victory lap with unnecessary flair. “Show off!” Tom shouted and in turn completely lost his balance.

Loki caught him from behind before he took what would have been the most unceremonious fall. “Ice is unfortunately my element, love.”

“Clearly it’s not mine,” Tom huffed. “Though I was never much of an athlete.”

“Well neither was I and still we manage.”

Loki hooked an arm around his waist and after dragging him along for a bit, they finally found a rhythm, gliding this way and that, making slow circles in the quiet midnight air. Through the perimeter of evergreens, he could see the start of Christmas lights being strung across town, tiny dots of light – an endless continuation of the stars that twinkled overhead only marring by newly swirling clouds. The cool night air was chilling, but here it was always warm.

“I love you,” Tom said without thought.

Loki turned, gliding backwards for bit before they slowed to a halt. Loki stared at him for a moment, searching for some trace of doubt as he always did, before he was ultimately reminded that such a thing could be true for him. “I love you too, Thomas.”

Basically sliding into him, since the means to stop eluded him, Tom pressed their lips together, noting when he first drew back how cold his skin was. His lips almost stuck. But he wouldn’t have minded in the least. Loki smiled, drawing him closer and keeping him steady, raking cold fingers through his hair until Tom felt chills roll down his spine. His tongue flitted against Loki’s cold lips until he resumed their kiss again, quietly, softly, slowly, just as their first snow began to fall. 


	9. Snowed In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter is rated NSFW for holiday smuttiness. >)

It snowed through the night and by morning it was still coming down heavy, adding to the notable accumulation already stuck to the ground. The weather had predicted only rain but it had gotten cold so fast. According to the updated forecast, the snow would continue all day, tapering off by tomorrow hopefully.

Tom sluggishly headed back upstairs, sipping his coffee in the hopes of waking up. The lack of natural sunlight and his morning run had thrown him all out of whack. He slipped back into the bedroom to find Loki in the same delirious state, half-awake but still mostly asleep. He glanced up at him with a drunken smile, his hair slightly tangled between his head and the pillow as he stretched the sleep from his muscles. “Back so soon?” he grumbled sleepily.

“We’re snowed in, I’m afraid. They’re saying a lot of the roads are closed with all the drifting. A tad much for me to be running around in. Unless I want to freeze off a few body parts.”

“Well we wouldn’t want that,” Loki grinned. “I don’t suppose you’ll come back to bed then? After all, there isn’t much else we can do cooped up inside for the day.”

“There are dozens of things to do, stuck inside or not,” Tom joked, ignoring the way Loki purposefully posed himself among the sheets, his naked person only barely covered as his legs shifted under the covers. And he still managed an innocent smile.

“Don’t make me beg.”

“You won’t,” Tom said, finishing off his coffee and setting the mug aside.

“I usually don’t have to,” Loki returned, his fingers tracing patterns in the fabric on Tom’s side of the bed.

“You never were a morning person,” Tom sighed. He shed his robe before slipping back into bed, trying quickly to warm up again. He nestled close until Loki’s chest was flush against his back and he’d slung an arm around him, resuming their embrace from the night before.

“Thomas, you redefine morning person,” Loki mumbled, burying his face in Tom’s neck. “Such early hours could be much better spent, my love.”

“Mmm. I have no doubt,” Tom agreed, pressing his face further into the pillow, Loki’s soft kisses to the back of his neck already lulling him to sleep again. “Sleep is a wonderful thing.”

Loki laughed quietly, his breath warm on his neck. “Not exactly what I had in mind,” he said quietly, nibbling gently on his shoulder. Tom could have easily fallen back to sleep in spite of the caffeine as Loki’s hand began casually caressing his chest. His other hand twirled in Tom’s curls, his trail of kisses moving over his jaw. His fingertips made tiny circles over his nipple, goose bumps spreading out in their wake. “Still tired, my love?”

Tom only grumbled, but as Loki’s hand drifted further down, past his navel and just past the prominent line of his hip, he was wide-awake. Loki marked the skin of his neck until it bruised as his hand gently fondled him through his pajama pants, his delicate touch making it all the worse. He drew a single finger up and down his length until his pants were well tented beneath the covers. With Loki pressed so close, Tom could feel him already hard and ready, but unusually quiet. He continued leaving kisses all along his back and anywhere else he could reach. His touch was reduced to merely the lightest caress along his hips and his inner thighs. And still he was quiet.

He could feel himself leaking through his boxers as Loki continued to tease him – as he always did. Tom leaned back, arching his hips so he could return the favor, grinding against him. A tiny noise escaped him and he smiled against his neck. “I never have to beg, Thomas.” He felt his touch again, this time as his magic whisked away his pants and boxers leaving them both bare beneath the sheets.

Tom groaned against the pillow as Loki’s hand fisted around his cock. He grit his teeth as he stroked him slow, his tight grip making him gasp with each pull. “Faster,” Tom breathed, before he was thrusting into Loki’s hand, the sweet friction making him moan louder. His hand fisted in the sheet as Loki drew him right to the edge and then his touch disappeared. “Loki,” he growled. _It’s too early for this._ Loki parted his thighs, his hand securing him behind his knee and Tom felt him adjusting. And then he thrust all the way in without warning, Tom helpless to smother the inhuman sound he made. Loki pulled on his thigh, spreading him further until he found the perfect angle, thrusting again to hit his sweet spot. Tom’s back arched and he buried his hand in Loki’s hair as he hit that spot over and over again.

Loki managed his slow teasing pace before he shifted again, the covers sliding off his back as he slung Tom’s leg over his shoulder pressing so deep Tom saw stars. He felt Loki’s hand on his cock again, stroking him hard to match his suddenly vigorous pace. “Enjoying yourself, love?” Loki mocked, his voice strained and rough.

“Don’t stop,” Tom growled, his face contorted with pleasure. “Don’t stop!”

“Come for me, love.” Loki bit his jaw, drawing his thumb over the head of his cock just before he came hard all over the sheets. Loki’s hand now slick with cum dug into the sheets as he pounded into him. Tom shivered at the sound he made as he finally came, buried to the hilt, his face a vision of ecstasy. “I think I like you as a morning person,” Tom said. He half turned and Loki came to rest against his chest. Loki flashed him a lazy smile before kissing him on the cheek. He pulled out after a moment, further soiling the sheets. Tom had no trouble noticing the slick between his legs and undoubtedly everywhere else. “What a lovely mess we’ve made.”

Loki grinned. “It’s still early. I think we can do much better.”


	10. Snow Shenanigans: The Man of Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins several stories in the snow. My sister and I attempted a snowman today… we weren’t quite this successful unfortunately.

It had been a long and arduous day, though only marginally productive by Tom’s standards. Although Loki was certain by the deep and sated sleep they shared through the afternoon and into the night that he was satisfied well beyond complaint for their lack of _productivity_. Loki took the extra sleep in stride, but he felt Tom up and about painfully early thanks to the drastic shift in the sleep schedule. It was hours after the sun came up before Loki began hearing what he had come to define as the most annoying sound – like an insect flying too near to his head.

“ _Sppppssst._ ” It was getting gradually louder until he finally pulled one of the pillows over his head with an audible note of distaste. One his intruder clearly ignored. “ _Spppssssssst!_ ”

“What?” Loki growled, his voice muffled by the upholstery.

“Loki, the snow is packable.”

He rolled his eyes beneath closed lids, burrowing back into the sheets when he didn’t elaborate on that bizarrely timed observation. He thought Tom had gone, until he was hit squarely in the back with a tightly packed ball of snow. The cold was almost a relief without the jarring sting of surprise. He dragged himself from beneath the pillows, glaring over his shoulder through his mess of matted black hair. Tom was excessively dressed in his entire winter wardrobe, knit hat and snow boots included. His gloves were dusted with fresh snow, the same snow that was sliding down Loki’s back.

Tom was tripping down the stairs in hopes of escape as Loki flung himself out of bed. He caught Tom at the back door, having appeared across the house, modestly clothed in his pajama pants, before tackling him into the snow. Sitting squarely on his chest, Loki buried him in knee-deep snow, though he continued to laugh in spite of that. He felt the hue of his home world creeping across his bare skin the longer he sat in the cold. After smushing a nice ball of snow into his face, he finally let Tom up again. Loki quickly clothed himself more appropriately, though still with a few less layers, thankfully immersed in a brisk and comfortable temperature.

Tom’s cheeks and nose were already flushed with the cold, but he smiled, wiping the melting snow from his face. “Good morning,” he said, still with far too much amusement. He dug up another handful of snow, waggling it in his face. “Perfectly packable.”

“So you said.”

“We’re making a snow man.”

Loki stared at him. _Yet another odd Midgardian activity._ “A man of snow. Sounds like an interesting creature. Another sort of Christmas magic perhaps?”

“No,” Tom laughed. “We’re going to build one.”

Still not quite understanding, he just sighed and let Tom lead with his limitless mirth. He dropped his neatly formed snowball to the ground. And then looking absolutely ridiculous he started rolling it around their tiny yard. For a few moments, it seemed some weird sport without point or purpose until he saw the snowball gradually increasing in size until he’d amounted a boulder standing up to his knees. The goal was still slightly unclear but he started a ball of his own. He had hoped not to feel quite as ridiculous as Tom looked, but it seemingly went hand in hand with this activity.

Before long their tiny yard was a mess of curling trails where the grass had been revealed, the thick layers of snow gradually lifted away. He could see Tom sweating in his mass of layers as he finally heaved his enormous snowball into the center of the yard. Loki had never really taken note of the simple science that was snow, but the manipulation of its inherent qualities for use in sentient architecture was intriguing on some level. He rolled his own well-formed snowball into place beside his. While his was smaller, it was far more even in its spherical shape, versus Tom’s which was as shapely as any naturally formed rock, the white dotted with sprigs of grass and a few dead leaves they’d neglected in the fall.

Loki picked at the imperfections, smoothing with genuine artistry until Tom suddenly hefted the smaller of their snowballs atop the other. Tom took the care to center it before diving back to make another.

Stacked three snowballs high, gradually decreasing in size, it hardly resembled a man – or even a human for that matter, but it was passable where abstract sculpture was concerned. Tom stood beside him, more than likely mocking his expression as he thoughtfully admired it. “It still needs work,” Tom decided, before spearing a tree branch into its abdomen.

“What a barbaric activity.”

Tom evened him out with another branch, this one twisted like it had a broken arm. And then he presented a box filled with coals which he’d procured from who knows where. But it was a clever solution. Loki popped a few into his head for eyes, though their size difference made it look a tad off. The final addition of an old pipe and one of Tom’s scarves completed his overall odd persona.

“He takes after you I think,” Tom noted with startling seriousness.

Loki glared at him skeptically. “I don’t see the resemblance.”

“He’s got your eyes.”

“I gave him eyes. That does not mean he has _my_ eyes, Thomas.”

“He has my nose though.”

“We didn’t even give him a nose.” Not even to mention their noses were mostly the same.

“He’s a little shapely though – not sure about that one.”

Loki rolled his eyes, before pressing a hand into their newly made snowman, a mix of seithr and well tamed ice invading it until it reformed into a frosted, more realistic snow sculpture baring equal likeness to the two of them. “Perfect.”

“All right I think I preferred the more vague resemblance.” He said, eyeing the thing almost uncomfortably. For such a quick spell, Loki thought he’d effectively captured the both of them – most of their features were similar anyway. And with an in between haircut, the right expression of either mischief or merriment could push the thing toward either one of them. He only saw Thomas, though it could never compare to his most perfect original.

“You’re probably right,” he agreed. “You are far too perfect for even the man of snow to compare.” Loki kissed the ice sculpture on the cheek, before he wandered back toward the house, the snowman slumping back to its original form.


	11. Snow Shenanigans: This Means War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of a continuation of the one from yesterday…

Loki expected Tom to follow him in but he heard his heavy boot clunking further into the snow. But before Loki could reach the door again, he felt another snowball suddenly smack him in the back of the head. He paused with a smile. “I’m not done with you yet,” Tom said, still shivering in the cold. Loki half turned just in time to see a blur of white before he took a ball of snow to the face. He wiped the ice from his eyes to reveal a purely sinister glare and Tom was instantly packing.  He charged across the yard to avoid whatever retaliation Loki had yet to concoct.

Tom took refuge behind the only tree in the yard, but that surely wouldn’t protect him. Not where Loki was concerned. And certainly not when he started a war in the snow. Loki crouched down, scooping a handful and slowly with only the slightest crunch, forming a perfectly round projectile. He waited in silence with bated breath until Tom made the mistake of presenting himself again. Tom knew before this began of Loki’s particular skill set. He let his weapon fly with the same grace and accuracy like any one of his hand-crafted throwing knives – though it was far less lethal. He hit Tom square in the chest before he ducked behind the tree again. Loki heard him curse quietly, but with his ordinary undertone of humor.

_Let the games begin, my love._

Loki paced like a caged animal waiting for his prey’s next move. Tom was mostly quiet, but he caught the occasional rustling – subtle movement in the snow. And then he attacked with an expression more becoming of a battle from one of his plays; it was almost comical paired with his armful of snowballs. He launched nearly a dozen in quick succession with the power he might have expected, but the lacking aim he also expected of his occasionally uncoordinated lover. But halfway across the yard, his shots came a bit too close for comfort and Loki dove to avoid the continuing barrage, a sudden wall of ice rising out from the snow to provide the necessary cover.

“No fair!” Tom declared suddenly running in the other direction, more than likely having run out of ammunition.

Loki quickly formed a few of his own, accumulating a fair sized pile before launching his own assault. He heard Tom loudly wincing as he was pelted with snow. But he somersaulted, knocking over the plastic patio table in passing with the dramatic flair Loki had found in many Midgardian action films. Loki leaned against his icy one-wall fortress, patiently waiting for Tom to _reload._ All the while, he lightly tossed his next ball between his hands, listening intently across the yard. He glanced over his barrier, catching Tom’s mop of crazed brown hair. His hat had been lost in the crossfire. He glanced over a few more times before he had mentally pinpointed his location. And then he hefted the snowball into a high arc and listened until he heard it smack Tom somewhere and then his mortal’s quiet curse. Loki had never been a warrior, per say, not where Thor and his companions were concerned, but his arsenal was still a force to be reckoned with. One which Tom knowingly engaged. Ever the good sport.

But Loki was never known for his sportsmanship.

He suddenly appeared, having crossed the entire yard without a single stride. Tom dropped his freshly formed snowballs as Loki forced him up against the tree. Tom silently admitted defeat, simply hanging in Loki’s grasp as his chest heaved from the exertion. Loki tried hard not to show his exhaustion, but a cloud of labored breath passed in the space between them.

“Do you ever play fair?” Tom gasped.

“Equality is not in my nature, Thomas.” He pressed his back into the bark, his cool lips only a breathe from his. Loki indulged himself a small token of his unjust victory, tugging at his chapped lip until it bled. But then he smiled and rubbed a handful of snow in his face. “I like this game, my love. We should play it more often.”

Tom made a face, already pained but on some level – the level that made Tom who he was – he was happy. Happy that Loki could take genuine enjoyment from something. _Anything._ Even though it was, as usual something that involved violence to some degree.

He headed back towards the flat, not looking quite as exuberant as he had prior to this little endeavor. Once inside, he began shedding layers in a frenzy. Loki shut the door behind them, his coat finding its own way back to the closet as he took over one of his favorite tasks. He peeled off each layer of clothes as he had countless times before, though this time with less libidinous intent. He slopped the wet garments on the floor in a pile, finally, several layers deep finding skin again. And he was left in his boxers, those being the only thing dry.

Loki scooped him up for a moment before setting him down on the edge of the kitchen table, his bare legs dangling almost to the floor. He left Tom with a blanket to warm up before he loaded the rest of his clothes into the dryer across the hall. When he returned, Tom was admiring some new purple blotches as they appeared on his skin. Most in the shape of snowballs. Loki settled between his legs running a finger across his collar bones, making him shiver. He trailed tiny kisses down his neck before, one at a time, he found his new battle scars, the gentle press of his lips erasing them again. With the exception of those from the night before.

Tom purred quietly as Loki found a few more, the dull ache slowly fading from him, a happily exhausted smile playing across his lips. “I should teach you to better protect yourself, my fragile mortal. I won’t be so easy on you next time.”


	12. Snow Shenanigans: It's All Downhill

When the roads had finally been cleared, the snow reduced to a more manageable level, they were both eager to get out of the house. And judging by Tom’s general enthusiasm, he most likely already had plans for them. They took a short drive out of the city to an area they’d never been before, or at least one that Loki didn’t recognize.

Upon arriving at their apparent destination, Loki eyed the sign with curiosity. It was fitting of Tom’s preoccupation lately. Something to do with snow. But of the activities he had endured so far, those involving the snow had been pleasant enough. Perhaps today would not have to strain his patience as most of their public outings did. Tom led them inside and through the lobby to a counter in the back. And through the large windows just beyond they were greeted with the sight of an enormous mountain of snow, stretching off into the endless confines of the building.

As Tom exchanged his money with the clerk on the other side of the counter, Loki’s gaze drifted between the mountain of snow to his right and the subtle drifts of melting snow outside in the parking lot. “Thomas, why is there snow inside? Is there not enough outside already that we had to come here?”

“Well for what we’re doing, darling, it is most certainly not enough. And seeing how we don’t have any nearby mountains, this was the next best option.”

Loki peered past him again and found people sliding down the gracefully tilted slope on boards and sticks all painted with bright colors and designs. Coming closer to the window, he watched intently as a few clearly more experienced men took the length of the room in stride, all of them moving back and forth and managing some seemingly difficult aerial tricks. But their slaloming motion was mesmerizing, the boards shredding the snow in waves before they spun to a halt at the bottom. “Is this what we’re doing, Thomas?” he asked, pointing to the men he’d been watching, trying not to appear eager about it.

“Well I figured you be more a skiing person, but if you’d prefer the board then by all means. I am going to enjoy watching you fall on your ass one way or another.” Loki glared at him, but Tom only shook his head as he accepted his own pair of shiny, blue-tinted _skis_ and two matching poles. “Skilled at this or not, everybody wipes out sooner or later.”

“You underestimate my natural sense of balance,” Loki sneered as the clerk handed him one of the boards. He quickly looked it over, noting the subtle curve at the ends and the clever plastic contraptions for attaching your feet.

“Shall we?”

Loki followed him into the snow, catching the subtle hint of challenge in his eyes. _I will most assuredly make you regret that, my love._ He noted thankfully that there weren’t many other people here. Were it another horribly packed establishment, Loki would have been completely stripped of his sanity before too long. But given the fresh coating of white outside, the traffic was easy for now. Tom assisted him in strapping on his board, having already donned his own choice in winter footwear. The lift took them quickly to the top of the slope and Loki was slightly thankful they were indoors. Out on a mountain there was the issue of trees to be considered. And given his lack of practice with this particular sport, it was for the best that he not have to consider the threat of head on collisions.

“So I hear someone needs a few lessons.”

Loki turned to meet a man trotting towards them. He wore an atrocious blue jacket, so laden with lining it almost resembled their gradually melting snowman. He smiled professionally, looking far too excited to be there. “I’m certain I’ll fare just fine,” Loki sneered, glaring down at him until his smile finally vanished.

“Loki, he only wants to help. Mine as well have the basics under your belt before you hurt yourself.”

“And what about you?” Loki asked, attempting to slide closer. “My fragile little mortal.”

Tom smiled, securing a pair of goggles over his eyes. “I already did my time.” And then he pushed off, skiing back down to the bottom before Loki could further their argument. So he begrudgingly indulged the employee just enough to keep the board between him and the ground. Twenty minutes later, he had thoughtfully absorbed everything the annoying man had said thus far. And where he was concerned, it was more than enough. _How hard could this possibly be?_ So without the trainers manhandling guidance, he let the board slide over the edge. And he did well for about five seconds before the board _obviously_ caught on something and he face planted into the snow.

He immediately hopped back to his feet, searching the room to ensure no one had seen. No one laughed. And Thomas was still skiing down the slope for the hundredth time already. He finally reached the bottom, turned and waved up at him, hopefully ignorant of Loki’s slight mishap. But no matter. This time would be better. He recalled the young men he had observed before, their casual shifts in weight, contorting gravity to suit their means. After a moment of carefully choosing his path, he pushed off again.

The board slid easy picking up speed with each passing second. All the way down, he eyed the tiny ramp. Surely that would impress his mortal. Or make an absolute fool of himself. Either way, he took the risk, slightly angling the board. He caught the air easily, the whole world slowing down for a moment before the dilemma of landing finally hit him. The board touched down again with him remarkably still on his feet, but with all balance lost.

The fall that followed was inevitable. But Loki’s mentality had always been to drag at least one more person down on the way. He caught Tom around the waist, using him as a makeshift break before both of them met the snow in a heap of tangled limps and fiberglass coated wood.

“Everyone falls on their ass sooner or later, right _darling_?”

Tom only managed to shove him with a grumble, face still buried in the snow.


	13. Sleigh Ride

It was one of those rare afternoons when Loki was out, tending to personal matters Tom never knew anything about. He was purposefully secretive even when it came to the most trivial things. He could be picking up milk and he’d refuse to say where he was going or when he’d return. For any other couple that would be cause for concern, but it was Loki. And while he may or may not be up to something at any given time, Tom was fairly confident it was not worthy of apprehension.

He sat at the kitchen table sipping at a warm bowl of soup as he read through yesterday’s newspaper, which he’d neglected the day before. He was thoroughly engrossed in some article about a new independent film in the works when he heard the front door open and shut in a flurry of cold air that reached him all the way in the kitchen. He glanced up as Loki rushed into the room and hurriedly sat down across from him, a dangerous smile on his face. _Perhaps I should have been more concerned._ The last time he saw that smile did not bear thinking about. “Hi,” Tom said simply, waiting for him to explain himself. But he was quiet – silently bursting at the seams. “Is everything all right?”

Loki nodded. “Are you almost done with that?” he asked, eyeing his soup.

“I suppose. Are you hungry? I could just make you some.”

“No, I’m not hungry.”

Tom looked around like he was missing something. He took another spoonful of soup. “Then what’s the matter?”

“I have a surprise for you.” And that had Tom’s stomach dropping. “Why do you always assume it’s something awful?” he continued, noting the look on his face.

“Do you even have to ask, Loki?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve been working on this for hours and there’s nothing illegal involved. Now could you please be finished.”

With a sigh, Tom brought the bowl to his lips and swallowed as much as he could before dropping it in the sink. And Loki was immediately forcing him out the door. He was instantly clothed in the proper outwear as he was dragged down the snow covered street. Five minutes later, they were still walking and Tom’s toes were numb. But finally Loki turned and led them into the park up the street, jogging ahead a bit while Tom slushed along behind him. And when he looked up from his frozen feet, he found Loki standing hands in his pockets, casually drawing his attention to the horse drawn sleigh parked not far behind him.

The scene of a black Friesian stallion clad in its full decorative harness, attached to an old fashioned deep maroon sleigh, complete with a very cushy looking back seat was like something out of a story book.

“Loki – I don’t – I can’t believe you did this!” He hurried forward hugging Loki who shyly returned his embrace. “Where did you even get the idea?”

“I kept hearing this very annoying song on the radio. Something about _dashing through the snow in a one horse open sleigh._ So here we are.” The horse whinnied quietly, counting the snow underfoot. Tom smiled, kissing Loki on the nose before heading toward the sleigh.

“How did you manage to get one without a driver?”

“I _convinced_ him that I could manage it.”

“Loki-”

“Oh come on, Thomas. I am very tired of the questioning stares. I wanted this evening to be just the two of us. No harm will come to the horse or the sleigh.” Tom never doubted that, but he was looking forward to the day Loki did something without skating legality. Nevertheless, he hoisted himself into the sleigh as Loki slipped in beside him. He apologetically nuzzled into his neck, nipping at his jaw before he cracked the reins and the horse took off.

There was nothing more serene than the sound of hoof beats. Slightly muffled by the snow, it was still the perfect backdrop to the scenery that passed them at the horse’s steady trot. He came to this park for runs all the time, but it was infinitely different in the snow and even better watching it rush by. The cold breeze was slightly jarring but once Loki had set the horse on its path, he tugged a blanket around them and their combined body heat made for the perfect environment. “This is perfect, Loki. Thank you.”

“I felt I should do something in return for all of your diligent Christmas merry-making.” Tom laced their fingers together beneath the blanket before Loki brought his hand to his lips, kissing his cold knuckles. “You deserve so much more, my love.”

Tom mumbled into his shoulder. “I have you – and that’s more than enough.”

“I am quite a handful aren’t I?” He threw his feet up onto the front of the sleigh and Tom quickly curled a leg over his lap, entangling it with his.

“Yes you are,” he agreed wholeheartedly. With a sigh he set his head against Loki’s chest, breathing his scent, the cold air burning in his lungs. He felt Loki’s fingers run through his hair, pulling at the curls and ghosting the nape of his neck. He was slowly lulled to sleep as their sleigh rounded a patch of evergreens and was immersed in the warm orange glow of the setting sun. He finally drifted off to his Loki’s voice – quiet whispers of endearment and endless devotion. And the rhythmic sound of snowy hoof beats.


	14. By the Fireside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter is rated NSFW for holiday smuttiness. >)

Tom had seemed tired after almost falling asleep in the sleigh, nuzzled against Loki’s chest in the way he’d come to expect – the way he always needed it to be. But walking home from the park in the cool evening air provided him a second wind that rivaled the early mornings that Loki avoided with copious amounts of sleep and violent outbursts against the abhorrent device known as an alarm clock.

When they returned home, Loki sat on the sofa, admiring their tree and the crackling fireplace beside it as Tom fixed them drinks in the kitchen. He didn’t hear the usual clink of the glass alcohol containing bottles or the defined pop of a cork. In fact it was mostly slushing. But after a while, he returned with two drinks in hand. In the dim light, he couldn’t identify it, but after Tom had placed the glass in his hand he found it was some sort of cream based beverage, dusted with some sort of spice. Not quite the drink he was expecting.

“It looks like someone sneezed in the glass,” Loki said, sloshing it around and noting its thicker texture.

“Egg nog,” Tom clarified, setting down a pitcher half full on the coffee table.

“ _Nog._ It sounds like mucus too.”

“Just drink it,” Tom said, taking a swig himself.

Loki took a sip and while it held the cream he’d suspected and the texture was odd, he found a surprising alcoholic kick in the background. Though such Midgardian meads didn’t affect his metabolism, he felt the strength to it. _What a deceptive beverage,_ he thought. And as he watched Tom soon finishing his glass he saw the buzz in his beautiful blue eyes. Loki finished his glass, though he didn’t bother for another even as Tom poured himself a second glass. When he reached for a third a few minutes later, Loki sent the pitcher back into the kitchen before his lover’s composure completely disintegrated.

“That was a lovely sleigh ride,” Tom said, crawling into his lap, a single finger tracing Loki’s lips.

“Anything for you, Thomas,” he said smiling, kissing at Tom’s finger as it rubbed his bottom lip again. Had Loki been less aware he might have mistaken his delirious stare for overtiredness, but in fact it was a state of blissful relaxation achieved only with mild inebriation. At times like this, he had an adorable lack of inhibition. Without the curtains drawn – or asking Loki to do so – Tom sat squarely in his lap, grinding his ass on Loki’s semi-hard cock. Loki smiled, sinking further into the couch as Tom dug his fingers into his chest.

The first time Tom had slipped into this little mood, Loki had later recounted their transgressions only to have Tom giggling and blushing with embarrassment at his own expense. He became what he had defined as _a horny schoolboy._ Loki had little conception of what that was like, but whatever it was, it was as adorable as it was arousing. “You’re so good to me, Loki,” Tom whispered as he kissed along his jaw, his tongue teasing the crook of his neck. “I love you so much.” Tom kissed him and Loki could feel the subtle edge of clumsiness.

“I love you too, my lovely little mortal.”

Tom moaned quietly. “I love it when you call me that.”

“You like it when I belittle you?” he joked, his hands sliding around Tom’s waist as he slowly rutted against him.

“I like it when you call me yours.”

Loki chuckled, the sound a quiet rumble in his chest, a subtle vibration that had Tom squirming. “ _My_ mortal. _My_ Thomas. _Mine,_ ” he growled. Tom shivered as Loki ran his hands up and down his back before sliding them under his backside, his fingers tracing circles in the denim between his back pockets. “You like it when I _claim_ you, Thomas? When I make you mine over and over again?” He pressed deeper into his jeans though the fabric was not forgiving. Between them he felt Tom’s bulge hard but confined, now pressed against his own.

“Yes,” Tom breathed, palming Loki’s crotch through his pants.

Drawing the curtains and locking the doors – for Tom’s more modest self – Loki dragged him to the floor, pressing his back into the small rug between the table and the fireplace. He ravaged _his_ mortal’s mouth, his tongue tangled inside drawing the breath from his lungs until he only gasped, dizzy from his persistence. Tom wrapped his legs around his waist, still rocking his hips until the god couldn’t stand it. He tore off Tom’s shirt, popping nearly all of the buttons before discarding it entirely. He did away with the rest with a simple press of his seithr.

Tom sighed with the sudden contact between their bare hips, his cool skin suddenly flushed with desire. “You’re mine, Thomas. And only mine. Do you hear me?” Loki pressed forward, the friction making both of them gasp.

“Yes, Loki – only yours. Now take me. Please, Loki.”

“Always so impatient,” Loki breathed with a grin. He adjusted his hips, juggling Tom’s legs around his waist until he was poised at his entrance. His length suddenly slick with seithr, he pressed forward wrenching all sorts of beautiful sounds from _his_ mortal until he was completely buried. Tom rocked his hips, moans of his lover’s name escaping his gently parted lips. He raised his arms above his head, fingers knotted in the synthetic strands of the carpet. “I’ve always thought you beautiful like this, Thomas. Writhing beneath me.” He drew back to the point only his head was submerged before driving back in at a tortuous pace. “So wanton and needy. So _receptive._ ”

“Why must you tease me?” Tom said, biting his lip as he arched his back in search of a better angle. “Please, Loki. _Take me._ ”

Loki leaned forward, his teeth grazing the skin of chest, tracing his muscles, taught with the stretch of his arms. He savored the scent ingrained in his flesh, a musky aroma tinted with what remained of his cologne. Loki laved at his nipple as he thrust into him at a pace that had Tom whining quietly beneath him, lost between savoring Loki’s tender ministrations and begging to be roughly fucked into his area rug. But Loki would oblige him soon enough.

Tom thoughtlessly exposed his throat as Loki worked his kiss into the crook of his neck. His curls stuck in the carpet, pulling and mussing it in the most perfect way. His entire body shook when Loki’s hand fisted around his cock, stroking in time to his painfully measured gait. “ _Loki!_ ” Tom growled as Loki brought his thumb over the head, his touch less than merciful. “ _Loki, please!_ ”

His own restraint waning, Loki unwrapped Tom’s legs from his waist and bracing him by the ankles he thrust forward, each time deeper and his legs further spread – the muscles further stretched. “ _Fuck,”_ Tom gasped, biting his bottom lip. His eyes rolled back into his head as Loki’s pace turned primal.

“Is this not what you wanted _my_ love?” Tom only grunted, trapped at the edge of his impending release. “For me to _claim_ you? For me to _fuck_ you – _my precious mortal?_ ”

“ _Yes!_ ” he cried, finally coming, his hot seed coating their chests.

Loki felt a fresh sheen of sweat coat his entire body with the fire’s warm glow still heating his innately cold skin. But he pressed on, his pace breaking, his entire body shaking until he came, making Tom’s back arch utterly filled and utterly spent after that. Still bracing his ankles, though with a slackened grip, Loki leaned forward and kissed him. Tom strained his neck even in his suddenly boneless exhaustion to return his gentle kiss. He glowed beneath the dying light of the fire, his blue eyes shining in the darkness. _His beautiful mortal._

“Mine,” Loki breathed, pressing the word repeatedly into his lips. “ _Mine, mine, mine._ ”


	15. A God Among Shoppers

The traffic hadn’t been too bad for a while and by the time they’d realized the chaos that awaited them, they had already crossed the threshold of no return. Tom had mentioned shopping before. He went out at least once a week to shop for groceries (Loki had an insatiable appetite). He went out shopping for other human necessities. But today Tom spoke of it like something to be approached with caution and care and the utmost patience. A gift Loki had never received. This activity known as shopping had never seemed difficult. He’d only accompanied Tom once or twice. And he simply pushed the cart and avoided eye contact with everyone he passed. But he’d been assured this was going to be an interesting experience.

After arriving at the normally quaint shopping centre, they spent an unenviable amount of time searching for a place to park the car. That trivial irritation alone put Loki in a mood. But as they finally got out of the car, Tom assured him he would make this as quick and painless as possible.

Arm in arm, they walked inside, Loki taking care to navigate them through the asphalt field of invisible ice. Once they were immersed in the warmth of the building, they were immediately overwhelmed with the indistinct chatter of hundreds of other people – tiny conversations reaching them from every corner, echoing over archways from the stores the lined the hall. And not even three feet in the door they were already ambushed by two salespeople offering samples of their products. Loki only sneered at them in passing, as Tom dragged him to a vacant corner of the space.

“Are you going to be all right?” he inquired again. “I know this environment isn’t _good_ for you.”

This had been their subject of conversation the entire afternoon as well as the drive here. It was a tad bit late to be reconsidering. Loki glanced around again, taking in the mass of shoppers, people from every walk of life with arms filled with their purchases all in brightly colored bags and wrapped boxes. There was the droning of overhead Christmas tunes that seemed to follow them everywhere they went. This really was a horrible cocktail of aggravation. Tom’s hand was tracing circles on the back of his hand, watching and waiting for Loki to give up. His touch did little to aide his hatred for human hordes but this was the holiday for gift giving. And there was no better place for procuring such things.

He sighed, attempting to collect himself again. He trained his thoughts on Tom, hoping perhaps to silence some of the chaos. “I’ll be all right,” he finally replied. And he was for a time.

Tom stayed close, keeping their fingers twined together for the most part and occasionally leaning up to kiss him and remind him how grateful he was for his company. So Loki simply observed as he shopped, checking things off a list he’d brought, mostly in search of gifts for his relatives. But after they’d meandered from store to store for over an hour, Tom finally paused and glanced up at him with a look he was not overly fond of.

“Would you mind if we split up for a bit?” And when Loki only stared, he rushed to explain. “I only have a couple more things to get, darling, but among them is your gift and it has to be a surprise. You’ll be all right won’t you?”

“I am certain I can manage, Thomas. Where shall I meet you?”

“Downstairs by the big Christmas tree in say an hour?”

Loki nodded. He kept a few of Tom’s bags to lighten the load as he dashed off to finish his shopping as quickly as possible – more than likely to keep Loki from doing something that might land them on the evening news.

For the longest time he only stood there, finding peace in his own thoughts even as other shoppers continued to whiz by him and the god-awful music continued in the background. He couldn’t help but think of Tom shopping for him, spending the time to find something he would deem perfect. _And Thomas would find something perfect._ _But what about me?_ More than anything – and more often than Tom thought healthy – he felt he owed something to Tom for being one of the few people in life who’d accepted him and made a home for him. Tom loved him, but no matter how much Loki loved him in return it never seemed to be enough. Perhaps this troublesome holiday would be his chance to really show him how much he meant to him.

So he walked up and down the shopping centre, eyeing the bright and colorful window displays, searching ever corner for something Tom might like. It wasn’t often he asked for anything. He recalled the list he had written to Father Christmas and thought perhaps the old man would be willing to spare some of those options, but even then, he didn’t know where to find most of it. And the necessity items he’d asked for simple weren’t enough. He needed something special.

Hands tucked into his coat pockets, the few shopping bags he carried, hanging around his wrists, he began heading back towards the Christmas tree. He eyed another shop in passing, but this time he stopped. It was a bookshop, not unlike the bookshops he remembered from past visits to Midgard. There were aisles of long shelves laden with books. Although in this day and age, there were nearly a many electronics as there were physical tomes.

He wandered around, avoiding the other shoppers to avoid conflict, even though a little mischief might have set his mood. _No, Thomas wouldn’t approve. Not tonight._ So he walked the length of the shop several times, browsing thousands of titles, waiting for one to stick. He didn’t recall any specific titles from his list, but he felt the section dedicated to his good friend Shakespeare was a fair place to start. It was a space fairly dwarfed in comparison to the areas devoted to science fiction and awkwardly erotic fiction, and unfortunately after scanning the various titles, he found that Tom already owned most of these. His lover had an enormous library. And there was of course his lack of currency to consider. He hadn’t the money to pay for a gift even if he found one.

“Need help finding anything?”

Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed a young worker approach. “I am looking for a gift,” Loki explained. “But it seems everything in his genre, he already owns.”

The young man smiled with a knowing _hmmm_. “I understand – the person that has everything. But he likes Shakespeare, yes?” Loki nodded. The clerk thought a moment, his eyes wandering around the shop. “Oh! Have you been to the British Library? I think there’s a copy there of one of Shakespeare’s original works. Maybe you could arrange a meet and greet. He can’t possibly have that one. Only a few hundred copies in the world, I think.”

Loki mulled that over. Tom had never spoken of having read something so original or clearly valuable. There may be hope for this gift-giving holiday after all. “That might be worth a look.”


	16. Gifts for a God

Tom wasted no time rushing from store to store feeling incredibly deceptive. Already with an armful of bags, he wound up and down the aisles of one of the larger department stores searching for the next item on his list – Loki’s Christmas list, which he had oh-so-sneakily stolen. He’d actually rehearsed the slight of hand to steal it away before his only hope of continuing the Santa charade was turned to little more than ash. His eyes wandered down the list again, half the items still bringing a smile to his face. It was almost like he’d known Tom would read it and while he couldn’t deny that for sure, he was fairly certain Loki was oblivious this time around.

He’d already checked off a number of items to be gifted from Father Christmas. He had a very heavy bag laden with sweets as per Loki’s request. He could have easily guessed that one. He’d procured him a very tasteful scarf, which Loki had pointed out in a shop window a few weeks ago. He read further down the list. He smiled and nearly blushed when he passed the next one, which read in Loki’s eloquent script: _a fancy dinner for my mortal and I_. It might not have been something Santa could wrap, but Tom would tend to that one all the same.

After crossing a few more items off his list in the current store, he was hurrying into the next store with a clear intent and a laugh he couldn’t restrain. When he’d had a moment to look over his list in private the first time, he’d had a good laugh at the expense of his oddest request. _A Midgardian device known as an iPhone._ Tom could only imagine what had possessed him to want one of those, given his penchant for despising modern technology, but it was hilarious and doable all the same.

With nearly an hour past, he’d managed to collect nearly everything on Loki’s list. It had taken hours of careful plotting to manage such a feat especially in these crowds. But with time to spare, he made a run to their car to stash the gifts in the trunk where Loki hopefully wouldn’t notice them. He went the extra mile to stick the very telling bags in unassuming cardboard boxes. But as he locked the car again, ensuring he still had the bags Loki had left him with, he still found himself without a gift from himself to his lover. It was something he’d pondered long before the Christmas season began. And it was so difficult given he came from another planet and anything magic related was impossible. That left him guessing even now.

He leaned on the boot of the car with a sigh, his breath condensing in the bitter cold air. He stared around the parking lot as if something might spontaneously come to him, even though it had yet to present itself in the weeks prior. But as his gaze drifted across the lot, his eyes settled on a building across the way with a bright red neon sign. _A knife shop?_   How had he not noticed that before? More importantly, why had he noticed it now? And then he recalled with a grimace being pelted with a plethora of tiny objects thrown by Loki’s very skillful hands. He spoke often of how he wasn’t known as a warrior but he had a knack for knife throwing. Unfortunately for him – though safer for Tom and everyone else – they hadn’t come along with him when they moved in together. Or so Tom had been told.

Regardless, he’d never seen Loki messing with them in spite of how often he spoke of training with them in the past. And that was definitely a thought worth considering. Checking his watch to find a few minutes before he had to meet Loki again, he jogged across the lot, hoping the store would be the answer to his Christmas gifting issues.

It was something of an understatement to say he was out of place in a shop like this. The walls were lined with weaponry. There were glass cases all across the room that were filled with knives or other metal implements he couldn’t identify. Were it not for the bright overhead lights and friendly looking staff, he might have questioned coming in here. And Loki would have laughed at that.

Tom walked up to the counter looking lost like a child in the woods despite playing it down to the best of his abilities. “Something I can help you with?” the man behind the counter asked, smiling at his obvious discomfort.

“I’m looking for a gift and I have no idea what I’m doing,” Tom openly replied.

The clerk just laughed. “Well let’s see if I can’t help you with that.”

Tom proceeded to explain his dilemma without too many details regarding his lover’s otherworldly heritage. And after answering a few questions to the best of his ability, the clerk finally found him something possibly fitting. He eyed the pair of throwing knives with careful scrutiny, not knowing exactly what he was looking for. They seemed beautifully crafted but he couldn’t help but worry knowing so little about this. The last thing he wanted was to buy something Loki couldn’t use.

“The man I’m purchasing these for, he’s something of an expert and I am terrified to buy the wrong thing – are you sure this will be suitable? I really need this to be perfect.”

The man thought for a moment before his mind settled again. “I know a man, hand makes custom knives like these. The quality is, in my opinion, far superior to anything on the mass market. I know it’s a bit close to Christmas now, but maybe you’ll get lucky.” He scribbled a name and a number on the back of the store’s business card. “If you can get a pair, I’m sure your friend will be satisfied.”

Tom pocketed the card with an ear-to-ear smile as he shook the man’s hand. And then he was rushing back out the door, words of gratitude just behind him. He checked his watch again – late. He could only hope Loki didn’t come looking for him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite some searching, I am still unsure if throwing knives are actually legal in the UK. Someone told me yes so we're going with it. And if they were wrong… Loki won't be the only one gifting with questionable legality. O_o


	17. Sighting Santa

Tom was grateful to return and find the shopping centre as he’d left it and fortunately not in some state of chaos from a Loki kept waiting. He found him surprisingly calm, wandering at the foot of the giant Christmas tree, patiently awaiting his return. Loki’s face brightened considerably when he finally found Tom striding towards him. And wasn’t that a miracle – especially surrounded by mobs of frantic shoppers. “You are infinitely more pleasant than when I left you. What on earth happened?”

Loki only shrugged, instantly smothering his tiny slip up. “Perhaps it’s what you would call Christmas cheer.” Tom laughed until his eyes watered. “Or maybe I’m just happy to see you.”

“That’s more like it.” Loki dragged him closer, jostling the bags they held to kiss him. Tom blushed a furious shade of pink when they finally parted. As far as public displays were concerned, it was uncommon. But if ever it did, it was never by Loki’s initiation, so Tom just smiled until his cheeks were sore. “Are you hungry? We could grab a bite and then go home.”

“Perfect.”

After a quick walk through the food court, they both grabbed a few take along items in lieu of an actual meal. Loki wolfed down several cinnamon soft pretzels, while Tom was nibbling on something foreign on a stick that he’d yet to completely identify. It was delicious nonetheless. And wonderfully unhealthy. They wandered slowly back through the long rows of shops, heading in the general direction of the car, but this time the long way round. Tom was making certain to savor every second of Loki not totally freaking out in public. And then he heard a very telling sound ahead.

_This is about to get very interesting._

They came slowly upon an elaborate Christmas display, complete with faux trees and snow. And the centerpiece, of course, was ornate golden throne and upon it, none other than Father Christmas. Loki eyed the man in the red suit with genuine curiosity. More than likely surprised there was any possible validity to the myth Tom had been spinning. And Tom put his many years of drama school to good use.

Loki glanced at him quizzically. “This is – this is your magical gift-giver?”

“In the flesh.”

The old man, fully clad in the classic costume, laughed heartily as he spoke with a young child standing at his feet, requesting whatever he wanted for Christmas. And poor Loki looked positively perplexed. “What are they doing?” His eyes wandered the line of young children and their parents, all of them looking eager to meet the mythical figure themselves. So Tom thoughtfully explained.

“Well, on occasion,” he began, “he makes appearances all over the world to meet some of us, take a few photos and hear what we want most this Christmas. It also provides the opportunity to discuss one’s spot on the naughty and nice list.”

“Why is it mostly children?”

 _Good question._ “Many children are too young to write out a list, so it’s easier for them to speak with Father Christmas directly.” He felt almost proud of that quick response. Though Loki still overlooked the entire scene with confusion. Tom grinned as he finished off his food. “Loki.” His smile continued to blossom. “Did you want to meet Father Christmas?”

His head snapped up with a purely incredulous look. “What? No. Of course not. This – this is an activity for children. I am a god! And I will not be reduced to – to pleading the case for my behavior simply for the sake of gifts.”

Tom watched him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He saw right through that little speech. Just as he always did. “Do you want a picture with Santa?”

“No.”

“We can do it together. One on each knee,” he laughed.

“Together?”

“Together. Yes. Both of us. It’ll be fun.”

“All right, let’s meet this Father Christmas.”

Tom hadn’t stood in this line since he was like twelve. And when he met Loki several long months ago, he never thought he’d be standing beside him in a line, surrounded by children, to take photos with Father Christmas. And it was the funniest and more adorable thing to happen since then. He watched Loki rock on the balls of his feet, shifting every time the surrounding children came to close. Thankfully the line wasn’t too long with all of the stores closing soon. So before long they’d reached the head of the line. While Loki was distracted by one of the kids and some nonsensical conversation, Tom paid one of the elf attendants for the meet and greet and in as few words as possible explained their odd situation, but she played along with applaudable acting skills.

He led Loki forward though he dragged his feet like any two year old in this situation. But eventually they stood before the man in the red suit. “This is his first Christmas,” Tom introduced. “He’s more excited about this than he appears.”

Loki grumbled, offering a short bow. “Thomas simply exaggerates, though I can appreciate your skills. It’s a clever trick.” An insult no one but Tom would understand. The Santa Claus only laughed, playing right along.

“All of magic is a clever thing,” he noted. “So this is your first Christmas – I suppose you’ve sent a list?”

“Thomas assured me you would receive it.”

“Oh I’m certain it’s being sorted as we speak. And have you been a good and honest person this year?”

Loki grimaced. “Well if you’d care to split hairs-”

“He’s far too modest. He’s come a long way.”

“Wonderful to hear!” Father Christmas declared. “I should have no trouble delivering your gifts this year.” Loki seemed hilariously relieved. “And would you boys like a photo?”

“Yes, of course,” Tom replied. They stood, one on either side and snapped a quick photo. The old man wished them a happy Christmas as they slipped free of the miniature winter wonderland, picking up their photo in passing. Arm in arm they admired it as they walked back to the car. It was positively the most hilarious photo they’d ever taken together. Tom was his ordinary self, smiling like an idiot. But Loki, looming over Santa’s shoulder with a downright menacing smile was beyond funny. And Tom dealt with the bouts of spontaneous laughter the entire drive home.


	18. The Art of Wrapping Gifts

By the following afternoon, the entire dining room table had been turned into an assembly line. Tom had pulled out every roll of wrapping paper he could find, along with the various fix-ins: ribbon and bows and bags and tags. And then the all-important tools of the trade: a fresh roll of scotch tape and the sharpest pair of scissors in the house. Loki sat at one end of the table, meticulously peeling price stickers off of the gifts Tom had purchased and occasionally producing boxes for things that couldn’t be effectively wrapped without one. Yet another gift of magic Tom was incredibly grateful for. It was a nauseating chore attempting to find boxes of a proper size for so many presents.

He’d organized the lot of them before Loki woke up this morning, careful to stash Loki’s gifts where he wouldn’t find them before Tom had a chance to wrap them. That was the only good thing about his lover’s late waking hour. Plenty of time to get things done that the god had little need to be involved in. So he had narrowed it down to just the gifts for his family.

Once Loki had removed all the price stickers, Tom cut out proper sections of wrapping paper. This was the year to use up all the scraps. Seventeen unfinished rolls in need of emptying. Though he could guess already that Loki would object to the mismatched wrapping paper. But he was quiet as he continued picking at the little white stickers on the packages. It was in stark contrast to his remarkably pleasant demeanor from the day before. “Everything all right?” he asked.

Loki didn’t respond at first, as he plucked a tag from a scarf Tom had bought for his sister. “I was merely thinking about my gift for you.”

Tom paused in taping bright red snowman speckled paper around a new teakettle for his mum. “You don’t have to get me anything, love. I told you that already.” He watched for Loki’s response, his hands followed the usual rhythm, folding the paper in such a way the package was quickly and masterfully enclosed.

“Are you getting _me_ a gift?”

“Yes.”

“Then of course I have to get you a gift. That is the purpose of this holiday, is it not? I have thought about it, but as a gift it presents its dilemmas.”

“Well if you need money-”

“It would defeat a bit of purpose, Thomas, if you bought your own gift.”

“But it’s the thought that counts! Not all gifts have to come from a store or arrive wrapped in fancy paper – they come from the heart.” Loki quirked an eyebrow. “That was bit cheesy wasn’t it?”

“A bit.”

“Well, just know that I only need you this Christmas.”

Loki stood as he finished de-stickering the last of Tom’s gifts, wrapping his arms around Tom’s waist and burrowing into his neck. “Still cheesy, Thomas.” He kissed the crook of his neck before peering over his shoulder to observe the art that was gift-wrapping up close. “Would you show me?”

“Certainly.”

Tom grabbed the next box, setting it in the center of the next square of paper. And then he folded the gift-wrap around it, slower this time, more effectively demonstrating the steps. Loki’s hands migrated down his arms until they moved with his, memorizing the motions. Tom pressed one of Loki’s fingers to the current fold, dragging it along the seam before taping it closed.

Tom half turned in Loki’s grasp, returning the kiss to his neck, before slithering out of his gentle hold. He spun the gift around to see if Loki could duplicate his action from the other side. And Loki played dumb beautifully for all of a few seconds before effortlessly finishing the other side and stacking it with the growing mountain of brightly colored packages. “Not so difficult.”

“Of course not. But now we have to decorate them.”

Loki lied when he spoke of his sense of aesthetics. That was obviously his laziness talking. Tom could see in the furrow of his brow how much these little things meant. He ensured all the ribbons were perfectly tied, the bows full and symmetrical. And all of his color choices were oddly well coordinated. And before long there was a mass of gifts at the other end of the table – and the carnage of innocent wrapping paper and ribbon confetti at the other end. Loki double-checked to see that they were all correctly tagged. Tom had made Loki address them this year given his penmanship was far superior. “Did you want to put them under the tree now? Since you’ve done so well to take care of it.” Loki didn’t respond to Tom’s tiny affectionate jab.

It was finally Tom’s turn to watch. He flopped down on the sofa as Loki carted the gifts from the kitchen to the foot of their Christmas tree. And he shortly had them all arranged, but according to what, Tom didn’t know. But finally the room felt complete. “So what were you planning to get for me?” Tom asked with a maniacal grin as Loki sat down beside him. “Maybe I could guess.”

“It is to be a surprise, my dear mortal,” Loki assured him. “But I believe it will be worth the wait.”

Tom was more than excited and still hopeful his own plans would be seen through to Christmas morning. But even if it was only them – without gifts or snow or Santa – it would be perfect. And it would always be the thought that counts.


	19. Baked Goods

Loki found himself puttering around the house aimlessly for most of the morning after waking up to an empty bed and a note from Thomas. _Went grocery shopping. Won’t be long. Many sweet surprises in store this afternoon. Love, Tom._ So Loki wandered with apprehension wondering what in the Nine that might entail. Ordinarily he might find some sensual undertone in that, but given that it was Thomas and he wasn’t drunk and it wasn’t yet a special occasion, he suspected a more simple intent. And sure enough, within the hour Tom had returned with nothing but groceries. Loki saw the car pull up and he was momentarily entertained as his mortal lover juggled a few too many brown bags and all the while trying not to slip on the slush in the driveway.

He shortly appeared at his side, quickly relieving him of a few bags before hurrying back into the house. Loki assembled them on the table in the kitchen and began rummaging around for things to put away. He’d obviously expected to find replacements for the usual items that ran out more frequently - but instead of the normal jug of milk and jar of pickle, he found a bunch of ingredients he’d never seen before. There were assorted candies and colorful, edible beads, along with chocolate formed in tiny chips instead of the usual truffle or bar.

“A special meal planned for this evening?” Loki inquired as Tom came in with the rest of the load. “Something geared towards my tastes, clearly.”

“Cookies. And they are for dessert, darling. Rue the day I let you have sweets for supper.”

Loki watched as Tom unpacked the food, organizing certain things on the table and packing the rest into the fridge and the pantry. And Loki was eyeing the lot of it with growing curiosity. Oh the aromas of processed Midgardian sweets.

Tom paced in the kitchen, his eyes fervently searching his cellular device as he randomly moved items around on the table. He claimed to be consulting some recipe. Loki used said time to sneak chocolate chips until Tom finally noticed. At last, he seemed to have his plans in order when he finally set the oven temperature and brought forth a kitchen appliance known as a mixer that looked like some sort of torture device. Tom carefully measured a few ingredients – all white powders and butter. Loki was hooked at Tom’s hip when the chocolate was finally involved. He stared, mesmerized by the rhythmic motion of the mixer as the little chocolate morsels were stirred into the forming dough.

As the oven chimed, Tom quickly spooned the dough in tiny balls onto a baking sheet before closing them into the oven. And he returned with the wooden spoon in hand, still laden with unused dough. Loki squirmed when he brought it to his lips and brought his tongue across the back of the spoon. He smiled, a chocolate chip sitting on the end of his tongue. “Wanna help me lick the spoon?” Loki mirrored his action perfectly, clearing the spoon’s interior, all the while watching Tom’s widening blue eyes.

“Feel free to clean the bowl too,” Tom laughed, clearly watching as his tongue continued to clean the spoon of the delectable cookie dough. Loki stuck his hand in the bowl, swiping his finger along the bottom to bring a large clump to his lips, cleaning is finger in a similarly seductive fashion. Loki’s next swipe ended up on Tom’s nose. He stared cross-eyed trying to see it, before he leaned forward and smothered his mouth, purposefully marking his cheek with as much of it as possible.

Loki’s eyes narrowed as they parted. He licked what he could reach from his lips before he was reaching for the bowl again. And before long they found themselves in a cookie dough battle.

Each of them huffed a sigh once they’d both settled to the floor, backs pressed against the oven in the wake of the onslaught. Tom had a dough print in the shape of Loki’s hand on his neck paired with multiple smears on the collar of his shirt. Loki was marked with chocolate war paint beneath his one eye and he felt the stickiness on his stomach where Tom had gone under his shirt. “We’re going to need a bath now,” Loki noted with a grin.

“Was that your plan all along?” Tom laughed. “Cover us in cookie dough to get me in the tub?”

“It was your idea to have me lick the spoon,” Loki reminded him.

The oven finally chimed again. Tom peered through the oven glass over his shoulder to find the balls of dough now mostly flattened cookies. They stood, Tom donning a pair of oven mitts and pulling their creation from the oven. Before he could even find a cooling rack, Loki had taken care of it, a subtle cool wafting over them. Loki took the first bite, the quality clear in his expression. As he chewed, he pressed the cookie to Tom’s lips until he did the same. “Not bad,” Tom finally decreed. Loki barely acknowledged him, still lost in the sensation of ooey-gooey melting chocolate in his mouth. “And there’s more to be made – sugar cookies and gingerbread men and-”

Loki cut him off, kissing him and licking the chocolate from his lips. “I am beginning to think this is as much a holiday for sweets as it is for gifts.”

“And we haven’t even gotten to the hot chocolate yet!”

Loki moaned into his next kiss, still savoring the taste of sugar on his tongue.


	20. The Gingerbread Dream House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know… I'm like half asleep right now O_O

After an oddly timed bath in the middle of the afternoon, Tom dragged them back into the kitchen. Loki emptied the remaining brown grocery bags onto the table, eager to see what other sweet surprises may be in store for tonight. So far, it was going swimmingly! He could have easily retired straight from the tub to the bed, but with the promises of more sweets, it would be plenty worth the wait.

Tom produced a stack of premade gingerbread cookies baked in various squares and rectangles. Rather large and unshapely for a cookie. Not that he cared. A cookie was a cookie. He was continually eating the chocolate chip variety they’d only just completed. He would empty the plate before Tom could aptly distract him again. Finally Tom forced him into a chair, stashing the cookies elsewhere before sticking a panel of gingerbread in his hand. “Gingerbread house.”

“Will this be another architectural exercise?”

“Probably.” Tom’s eyes wandered the mass of colorful décor. Every Midgardian candy he’d ever seen or heard of was spread out before them, just waiting to become some sort of cloyingly sweet, edible house. “What sort of house would you like?” Tom asked as he prepped some sort of piping device – a plastic bag with a metal nozzle.

“I like our current home, Thomas.”

“I know, darling. I mean if we had a _house_ house. I have always imagined a cottage in the mountains. A quaint little place – just the two of us.” He carved two of the rectangles into points on one end before he began icing the edge to a foil covered cardboard base. Loki held up the other two walls while Tom bound them together with some white, whipped frosting. Loki was thankful for the lack of exertion compared to their last building experience. Tom frosted on the two roof panels to a point at the top. And he almost saw a cottage like house taking shape. But it needed some _aesthetic_ help.

Loki stole the magic piping device and soon covered the house, top to bottom, in white. He shingled the roof with his usually symmetrical eye. He added a circular window in the front of the house, just above the door Tom had carved and left slightly ajar. Loki, thinking far too practically, added more windows and a back door, as well as icicle droplets hanging from the roof edge all the way around.

The two of them were suddenly pelted with tiny candies when Tom unceremoniously popped open a bag sending them scattering all across the room.  Once he’d collected the survivors, he began tacking them onto the roof, dotting the junctions of the vanilla flavored shingles. Loki stepped back a moment to admire the rainbow that he’d created. Tom smiled, popping M&Ms into his mouth. “It needs more color!” he said, before lining all the corners and windows as well.

“It needs a yard.”

“It needs a balcony.”

“Oh yes,” Loki agreed with a laugh, covering their growing yard with green candies. “I can stand out in the snow while you recite Shakespeare.”

Loki took care of the necessities Tom had neglected, like the doorknob and the mailbox, while Tom lined the entire perimeter with gumdrop shrubs. “Can we have a waterslide?” Tom asked, now with a candy cane hanging out of his mouth. All of the M&Ms were gone.

“Anything for you, love.” Loki was busy icing knot work in the form of a chocolate bifrost site in the corner of their gingerbread yard. After Loki had paved them a winding chocolate bar walkway from the front door, he glanced to the back yard again to find Tom forming a _slide_ of sorts – it was mainly strands of red licorice haphazardly hanging out of the back window. “I thought it was a water slide. Not a blood slide.”

“They don’t make blue licorice!”

When they finally ran out of candy and their gingerbread house was a brightly colored eye sore, they sat back in their chairs just staring at it. Not something he wanted to live in, but an interesting waste of candy. “Could you imagine if we lived in there?” Tom wondered aloud as if reading his thoughts.

“There’s no furniture,” Loki noted realistically.

“Yeah but we’d always have food. When you’re hungry you could just nibble on the walls or eat the mailbox.”

“I can already eat the mailbox.” Loki plucked the little gingerbread accessory and crunched on it as loudly as possible.

“You’re no fun.”

“I just ate a mailbox.”

Tom laughed, sounding absolutely high on the inordinate amount of sugar he’d consumed tonight. “It’s a neat party trick.”

“I could unhinge my jaw and eat the entire house if it would amuse you.”

Tom looked up genuinely startled. “That’s our house, Loki. You have to wait until at least Christmas to eat it. We’ll just destroy the entire thing.”

Loki pondered that a moment, before he came back to another idea. “Or I could shrink us both down and we could do as you wish and eat our way out.” Tom’s eyes grew wide as tennis balls before he was smiling and jumping up and down, chanting his approval. Come Christmas, they’d both be dead of sugar overdose if such plans held up.


	21. Christmas Lights

Loki glanced over Tom’s shoulder again, watching as he read through today’s paper with vigor, scribbling notes on a piece of paper in his near indecipherable handwriting. He had the same wrinkle to his brow as if he were writing up a grocery list. Perhaps another Christmas list? But instead of items in need of purchase, they appeared to be addresses. When his rather limited patience ran out, he snatched the list right out from under his pen, dragging a long smear of ink from the last letter he’d written. “Loki! Must you do that?” He grabbed for the list as Loki quickly scanned it.

“Are we going on some sort of journey, my love?”

“Yes. And you won’t be joining me unless you return my list.”

“You know I abhor driving, Thomas. Could you not concoct another activity for this evening? Perhaps we sit in and watch those dreadful Christmas films you keep talking about. From what I’ve read I would make a perfect Grinch. The sofa looks infinitely more inviting than your infernal automobile. Don’t you think?”

“As lovely as that sounds, darling, we are still going out. There’s always tomorrow. Indulge me tonight and tomorrow we’ll snuggle on the sofa to your heart’s content. Popcorn and everything.”

“I do love popcorn.”

“And it will taste even better if you wait.”

Loki rolled his eyes before he poked Tom in the chest with his list, begrudgingly returning it to him. “And what must I endure this evening?”

“You always assume it’s something awful. Have I been so mean to you? Admit it, you’ve enjoyed the holidays so far.”

“I shall admit nothing. The majority of it has been tolerable.”

Tom grumbled loudly and Loki smiled. It was an accomplishment in his twisted mind to agitate his mortal lover – a man always so composed. Loki pulled a chair up beside him, squishing in beside him and carding his long fingers through his curly hair. Tom nearly purred, quickly calmed from his miniscule irritation. “Tell me what we’ll be doing tonight, love,” he said quietly, gently raking his nails against his scalp. Tom noted a few more street names on his list.

“We’re looking at Christmas lights.” Loki listened, quieting his sarcasm just this once. “There are several very beautiful setups nearby and I would love to see them. I would love to show them to you.”

“All right.”

Loki kept silent as they piled into the car, Tom plotting their course on his phone. He would never look forward to driving around, certainly with no destination to look forward too, but as Tom wrapped a hand around his, sneaking a kiss at every stoplight, he could hardly complain.

Loki had noted the holiday lights in passing during their drives since the season began. Tiny multicolored bulbs lining roofs and swirled around trees. They came in dozens of colors and shapes and patterns; some of them even flashed. Tom drove them down a few streets close to home, slowing down when they found a house that was decorated. For a while, it was only the simplest of setups. A wreath with a red light-up bow. Rainbow lights along the gutter. A walk way lined with candy canes. All of it subtle and pleasant, but gradually repetitive. But as they worked their way into the busier streets, he found the more elaborate scenes worthy of his attention.

As they passed the shops, there were bright white archways of tiny lights. Big red bows and giant golden bells. There were even animated forms in lights. Tom pulled over a few times when he caught Loki admiring certain displays. And they would critique and adore in the silence of the car before crossing another location off of his list. When they were coming to the last few stops, Loki was silently appreciative that they could go home soon, though he had, remarkably enough, enjoyed seeing some of the holiday sights.

“I think you’ll appreciate this next one,” Tom said, breaking the quiet of the car. They pulled onto the next street, thankfully not too traffic heavy, and for their final stop, Loki definitely took notice.

If you squinted your eyes, it looked like genuine snowfall. Several hundred white balls glowing where they hung about the street on invisible wires. They were carefully arranged in such a naturally random display they seemed to float down to earth completely unhindered. Another feat of Midgardian magic. The snowballs of light reached the length of the street, following the subtle curve, bouncing slightly in the breeze.

Tom pulled their car to the curb, hopping out to see them beyond the frame of the windshield. “They change the setup every year,” Tom explained as Loki joined him. “Every year – just for this short time of year. They do a ceremonial lighting in November, but I missed it this year. But it’s just as well,” Tom said with a smile, lacing an arm around his waist. “These might be my favorite.”

Tom pulled them onto the hood of the car still warm from their drive and they laid with their backs against the windshield staring up at the lights. And after a moment even the rumble of cars driving past was blanketed with the imagined snowfall. “I keep having this urge to catch one on my tongue, but I don’t see that ending too well.”

“I’m certain they’re bigger up close,” Loki noted.

Tom laughed. “Of course. But you can almost feel it can’t you?”

Yes – the almost sensation of snowflakes melting against his face. One at a time as they drifted downward, marking his skin with moisture. They’d stick in his hair and eyelashes while they peppered his cheeks with cold. That was something he remembered. Something he’d known. Something he’d forgotten. A simple thing worth remembering. “I hate that you’re always right,” Loki said.

“I’m trying to expand your horizons.”

Loki rolled his eyes but all the while imagining how nice they might look back home, floating among the rafters – the perfect addition to their holiday décor.


	22. Movie Night

Loki continued mumbling into the sofa, still wondering why he hadn’t made other plans for today. Tom had left early to spend the day with his family since he had long decided that it would be just the two of them for Christmas day and the eve before it. So while he was a few towns away exchanging the gifts they’d bought, Loki moped around the house waiting for his return. He’d been promised an evening camped out on the sofa watching whatever movie his lover selected. He wasn’t entirely worried of the film, only that they have a night free from bizarre activities. And more than that, as soon as this holiday passed, Tom would be back to work again and he’d be left to either mope about and eventually get into some sort of mischief, or tag along, meeting Tom in tiny hotel rooms and sneaking around the sets of his films. He didn’t mind the clandestine nature of it all nor the change in pace, but having Tom all to himself was a gift he treasured.

He had managed some mildly successful work on Tom’s Christmas gift earlier in the afternoon, but when he tired of that, he flopped onto the couch and did absolutely nothing. He lost an hour in an unplanned nap. He perused an old magazine he found on the end table. He chanted quiet spells into the air, rearranging Tom’s books from across the room. Something he would certainly take note of. He picked a few stray fibers from the sofa cushions before ultimately burying his face in a pillow and waiting for Thomas to return.

Eventually he heard the car pull up outside and shortly after the door swung open as Tom stumbled in. Loki didn’t get up. But he listened intently, tracing Tom’s movements in the kitchen, setting things down. He breathed a sigh of relief when he’d finally dropped everything. And then he heard his suddenly shoeless feet pad into the room. And Tom flopped onto the couch beside him, snuggling into him, their bodies naturally conforming to one another. “Did you miss me?”

“If you lay there long enough you’re going to find out.” Tom gave a tired laugh, reaching behind him to tug at Loki’s hair. “Did you enjoy the day with your family?” Loki inquired quietly, lacing an arm around his waist.

“It was nice. Exhausting as usual, but very nice. I wish I had more time to spend with them.”

“Am I to blame for such losses in your free time?”

“No. Not at all. Our time is just as important to me. If not more so. Don’t ever think yourself beneath them.”

Loki smiled. His lover, so remarkably defensive at times. “I did miss you.” Tom sighed contentedly, looking like he might just fall asleep. “Are you still up for the movies tonight?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, shaking himself from sleep as he sat up. “Yes. I’m up. Why don’t you fix a pot of tea and I’ll set up the movie?”

“Yes because you know perfectly well your movie playing device is not overly fond of me.”

“As I’ve told you before, DVD players don’t like anyone.”

Loki sauntered off to the kitchen, listening to its insipid whirring as he set the kettle to boil. When he returned, a cup for each of them, he found Tom had everything ready. He’d pulled out all the blankets and extra fluffy pillows. The couch had become Valhalla in its own right. “What about the popcorn?” Loki noted, his face twisting with feigned irritation.

“Tea first. So I can stay awake, darling. Just for the first movie since it’s short. Then I shall make us popcorn.”

So Loki easily conceded, slipping under the blanket and carving an obvious niche for Tom as he set the movie to play. He clicked a few buttons on the remote and the film began with soft music as Tom snuggled in beside him, sipping lightly at his tea. _The Snowman._ Loki was surprised to find the movie was devoid of conversation – it was only music drifting through the scenes with an eerie calm. He watched as a young boy’s snowman was brought to life in the night and they led an interesting evening, gallivanting off to meet Father Christmas. While the whole of it made him glance toward the back door where their snowman was still partially standing, the ambiance was comforting.

“Is this what our snowman does when we leave it unattended?”

“Not that I am aware of, but anything is possible.”

As the short film came to a rather disheartening end, Tom exchanged the tea for the promised bowl of popcorn and put in another movie, this one a full-length feature known simply as _A Christmas Carol_. After that they managed to finish _It’s a Wonderful Life_ , before they were both nearly falling asleep on each other. Loki noted as the end credits rolled, Tom’s obvious choices aimed at bolstering the spirit of giving and Christmas. Not a bad move on his part, but a few old films on arrogant scrooges was helpless to make him any more pleasant than he was already managing.

Loki turned off the telly, managing it rather simply without it yelling at him for something. He leaned into the corner of the couch to accommodate Tom who was sinking further against him as his mind drifted off. He dragged his fingers through his hair and over his cheeks and across his back. His mortal sighed quietly, perfectly content to have fallen asleep that way. But after a while, when they both couldn’t help the inevitable cramping from the squeeze, Loki carried him upstairs. He whisked their clothes away and they resumed their pose beneath the covers as Loki too was lost to sleep.


	23. Nativity

They, along with a decent crowd, amassed in a community hall not far from their house on the night before the eve of Christmas. Loki had taken notice as Tom ever so subtly lulled him into a fair enough mood to be packed into the small space with so many mortal strangers. By the end of this holiday, he would be well acclimated to these damn social outings.

The room was set up as a make shift theatre, folding chairs arranged into three sections with a small stage in the front. Tom snagged them seats at the aisle. They could both use the extra leg space, but more than likely it was to maintain the option of a quick escape. So Loki sat in the aisle seat, Tom settling into the one beside him. He leaned into the arm Loki had slung across the back of his seat, for once abstaining from polite conversation with his neighbors. He’d been on the phone all day with someone of his entourage, already plotting projects once their holiday was over. Loki surprised even himself with how much he intended to savor these last few days.

So as the lights of the room dimmed, replaced by a single spotlight on the stage, he twined their fingers and watched the unfolding play with obvious intent. This was the story of Christmas, Tom had explained – the origin of this peculiar Midgardian holiday. A tale of mortal born deities, the likes of which didn’t make sense to him. But he watched as a young well dressed narrator stepped onto the stage and began to explain.

“Over two thousand years ago, in the town of Nazareth, a young woman named Mary was visited by an angel. On that night she learned she’d been chosen to bear the Son of God and he would be called Jesus.”

The actors came together on the stage, following the narrator’s cues. They watched as this woman called Mary and her new husband trekked across an imagined dessert seeking a far away city. For a time, and with a short laugh, her husband pulled her on a wagon outfitted to look like a donkey. But as they reached their destination, Mary looking more weary with every passing moment, there wasn’t a single place for them to stay with the exception of a stable already laden with small children impersonating animals. Loki briefly eyed Tom, wondering if this was really a true story. Tom only nodded toward the stage again.

“And several hours into the night, Jesus was born. He was swaddled in cloth and laid in a manger filled with hay.” A real baby, surprisingly calm, slept quietly in the straw. And then other characters congregated from across the stage led by a little girl with angel wings, skipping with a star raised above her head. First there were shepherds, young men simply dressed carrying crooks and leading toddlers adorned in fluff, bleating with surprising accuracy. They overlooked the magic child with well-feigned awe, before several more spectators joined. Three boys, each more distinctly dressed to cultures Loki couldn’t identify. And they came bearing gifts. Finally some sense to this Christmas holiday.

 _So where did the red man in the suit come in,_ he wondered.

As the narrator completed their story with a message of goodwill, charity and keeping in mind the true meaning of Christmas, the audience offered a standing ovation before everyone shortly parted ways. Tom excused himself to compliment the director of the small production, an old friend or something. Loki just nodded, slipping out into the snow to escape the crowd. He took a path from the building away from the mass of patrons. He walked until the noise finally dulled and he ran out of walkway, his boots crunching down on partially frozen snow. And the silence, the still brought on by snow was perfect.

He found his gaze drawn to a small playground where a few of the sheep, still in costume, played in the snow. They frolicked about in the dark, abusing the equipment until their parents came after them, claiming Father Christmas was watching. “I bet you’ll be happy when this holiday nonsense is done.” Loki turned, for the first time in a long time legitimately startled. It wasn’t often Tom could sneak up on him. “Sorry,” he immediately apologized. “You were probably enjoying a brief moment of peace and quiet.”

“You hardly impede on my idea of peace, Thomas. I shall enjoy this holiday so long as I can spend time with you, before you run off to get lost in your work again.”

“I don’t like missing you either,” Tom said with a smile. “But we still have time. Come on. Let’s go home.” They took the short walk home in stride, Loki warming his mortal as he tugged him in close.

“So, my dear Thomas, while the little play was very informative, I fail to see where your famed Mr. Claus fits into this history.”

Tom smiled but with an already exasperated sigh. “It’s sort of a complicated and gradual evolution – a long story best saved for another time, love. After Christmas, I think.”

Loki watched as Tom buried the subject in a matter of seconds. _Curious._ It was a matter he’d already deemed strange and off in more ways than one. Perhaps a bit more research was necessary. He could see in his lover’s telling grin that some sort of game that was likely afoot. But a matter best saved for another time.


	24. Christmas Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday! And I hope Santa brings you everything you wished for this year!

Tom had carefully plotted a lazy day in spite of that contradiction. Something of a wordless thank you to his lover for enduring so much for the simple sake of being with him through this season that, in recent years, he’d spent alone. And after all the decorating and shopping and wrapping and rigorous outdoor activities, he wanted these final two days to be as easy and carefree as possible. On one hand, he waited anxiously for the season and all its stressors to pass. But this time alone – time for sweet nothings and evenings on their own couch in their own home – was only granted for the holiday’s sake. After that who knew when opportunity would find them again. So he intended to make the most of these last few days.

They slept in, content beneath the sheets. Tom purposefully neglected his run for the sake of a few more hours warm in his embrace. But Loki awoke, surprised when the early hour came and went and Tom was still close and undisturbed by the rising sun. With mutual understanding, Loki haphazardly kissed his cheek and settled against him for just a few more hours.

When they were both finally up, they took a walk into town. For a while it was like any other day. Children home from school were playing in the snow. The traffic was average. The weather was fair. But when they reached the square and the shops, it was a whole new animal. Last minute shoppers, Tom explained. Hundreds of people rushed about, vehicles fought for parking dominance and sales brought hordes of chaotic shoppers. Tom brought along a small bag of leftover gingerbread house décor and they settled on a nearby bench to watch the madness unfold. Loki watched with wide eyes and a joyous grin. He observed like he was watching a sport. Wincing at the near misses between cars and hooting with an odd vigor when someone emerged victorious from a fight over some trivial holiday thing.

When the candy had run out and the last minute shopping buzz was temporarily calmed, they headed home again. And Tom had arranged for a casual yet marvelously entertaining afternoon. He’d pulled out all the old board games, most of which, miraculously still had all their pieces. He compiled a line up he thought most fitting. Loki refused charades, claiming he couldn’t beat Tom and his acting skills. So they skipped on to Clue. His lover thoroughly appreciated the murder and mischief and his detective skills were unquestionable. Though he couldn’t figure how the young lady in red managed to kill a man with nothing but a candlestick. They tried for Monopoly next, though Tom found himself packing that one back up shortly after starting. They’d be feuding over rent and, as Loki had jested, Tom’s occasionally less than accurate monetary calculations.

Risk was by far his favorite. _Like I couldn’t have guessed._ As a god once bent on global domination it was not a surprise when he won. Tom lost track of when the tides turned green, but all of the sudden Tom’s tiny blue soldiers were cornered in South Africa before he was brutally defeated. And Loki had a one-man parade around the kitchen in celebration of his victory. Had Tom not already been kneeling at the coffee table, Loki no doubt would have made it so. They rounded out the afternoon with a few good games of chess. Best two out of three resulted in a stalemate, but they were some of their best matches to date.

As Loki packed up the board, carefully putting away the individual pieces, Tom poured them each a glass of Loki’s favorite wine. It was something rather sweet that Tom had a distaste for initially but it had grown on him. Just as Loki had.

Darkness fell early, increasingly so with the passing days. So they settled onto the sofa, a fresh log on the fire and all the lights on the tree casting a dim golden hue over the room. “Here I got you this,” Tom said passing him what looked like a giant metallic green candy.

Loki eyed it curiously. “I thought we didn’t open gifts until tomorrow?”

“Well it’s not quite a gift. It’s more of a Christmas Eve tradition. It’s like a little fire cracker.”

“An explosive?”

“Not a real explosive,” Tom laughed, bopping him on the head with his own. “You yank on the ends so it pops and then little prizes fall out.”

“Oh. That’s interesting.”

“Here we’ll do it together. Ready one, two, three!”

Tom’s was sort of a dud, only opening half way with a few plastic trinkets hanging out of one side. Loki’s was thankfully a success. His black hair was dotted with paper confetti and he had a pile of small toys in his lap. It was an array of colorful plastic non-sense. There was a mini deck of playing cards, a super ball, a few marbles and who knows what else. And each cracker had a metallic gold paper crown. Tom unfolded it and positioned it perfectly on Loki’s head. “You look dashing, my king.”

Loki pulled Tom’s from his awkwardly torn cracker and stuck the slightly crinkled crown on his head. “As do you, peasant.”

“So long as I’m your peasant.”

They’d both indulged another glass of wine as the clock stretched toward eleven. Not quite late for them, but it was Christmas Eve and he had gifts from a certain Father Christmas to setup. “We should be getting to bed,” Tom sighed sleepily. “Tomorrow is the big day after all. Santa comes tonight.”

“Well perhaps I wanted to stay awake and see this magic in person.”

“Oh no,” Tom admonished. “He knows when you’re sleeping and when you’re awake. He won’t come until you’re in bed.”

Loki sighed and set down his glass, climbing into Tom’s lap as if he intended to fall asleep there. His fingers traced Tom’s collarbone as he kissed his chin. “Does he know if we’re having sex?” Loki inquired drowsily.

“I dunno.” Tom was dumbfounded at first before he shoved Loki from his lap until he was laughing on the floor. “But I really don’t want to think about it! God, Loki, why do you have to say such things? I think I’m scarred for life now.” Tom went up the stairs, feigned serious injury to the psyche until Loki followed. And contrary to the awkward comment, he took the time to tire him out in the only way he knew how and once he was dead to the world, he slipped back downstairs for the very last piece of this grand old charade.


	25. Happy Christmas Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is having a wonderful Christmas! And I hope you’ve all enjoyed these little nonsensical holiday tales… All my love! Merry Christmas!

Tom could recall so many childhood Christmases, waking up long before the crack of dawn to see if Father Christmas had come and in finding he had, would hound his parents until they awoke. Without children, the other end of that ritual was something he’d yet to experience, but he’d never expected this. Tom awoke, or rather, was dragged from unconsciousness by a persistent prodding in his back, a gentle jab but one he couldn’t ignore. He rolled over, his entire body stiff with sleep to find Loki hovering over him, sitting just beside him and eyeing him with a gorgeous smile. _Wait. Loki is awake? What time is it?_ He glanced at the clock and found it several hours earlier than even his alarm had been set to go off. Utterly remarkable. “Morning, Thomas,” Loki said happily, nuzzling his neck like a cat waiting to be fed.

“Morning, Loki. You’re up early.” He pushed a stray hair behind Loki’s ear as his smile further blossomed.

“It would appear there are actually gifts under our tree!”

“Well I told you they would be there, darling.”

“May we open them?”

“I am thoroughly surprised you haven’t already.”

“Well it didn’t seem right to do so without you.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Tom yawned, rolling over and smushing his face into the pillow. 

“May we open them now?”

“It is very early, darling. Perhaps in a few hours? Maybe when the sun is up?” Tom glanced up again when Loki didn’t respond, only to be greeted with a lethal set of puppy dog eyes. “Please – please don’t do that.”

“But Thomas-” Loki began, his voice tinged in exaggerated sadness.

“You are refusing extra sleep and an opportunity to snuggle. How miserably ironic,” Tom groaned dramatically.

“And you are refusing to spend early morning time with me. I’m actually awake, Thomas, consider it a gift.” Tom grumbled, shoving Loki before he sat up. A silent concession. “I’ve already made coffee for you!” Loki declared excitedly before flying from the room so quickly he might have teleported. The coffee was a sweet surprise and the aroma wafting up the stairs was incentive enough to drag himself from the warmth of their bed at four in the morning.

True to his word, Loki had somehow prepared a perfect pot of coffee. Which was a genuine miracle considering his usual issues with cooking equipment. But as Tom flopped onto the sofa still obviously sleepy, Loki stuck a mug into his hand and is tasted perfect. Loki thoughtfully nestled into his side, clearly eyeing the gifts, but giving Tom as few moments to wake up. When he was conscious enough to recall that it was actually Christmas morning, he nodded and Loki dove under the tree. He picked through, eyeing the tags and the tight wrap job. Everything was addressed from Father Christmas in his sister’s penmanship. In the time spent with his family, he’d let them in on his little hoax and they wrapped and labeled all of Loki’s gifts. They had even gone the extra mile to send a few wrapped Santa gifts for himself. Lest Loki question why only he had been delivered gifts.

Loki returned to the couch with two gifts in hand, one for each of them. He stared with a grin at Loki’s eager expression. Tom tore the first piece of wrapping paper before Loki shredded his own down to the box before flinging it open to find the scarf Tom had bought for him. And ironically the package Loki had grabbed for him was also a scarf. And magically coordinated. Both of them donned their scarves before Loki dove back in again. Tom was unwrapping another sweater when Loki made a very interesting noise as he began smiling like a madman. And then he pulled the iPhone from its box. Tom giggled. “You asked for an iPhone?”

“Yes,” Loki declared defensively, clinging to his device. “I see you mortals play with these things. They are like mini computers. And they are thoroughly entertaining.”

Within a half an hour they had gone through all of Santa’s gifts and Loki maintained a slightly bewildered expression but one of a thoroughly satisfied god. “I think I like this holiday,” Loki decided at last, basking in his new belongings like any small child on Christmas morning. But he was still on edge about something. “May I give you your gift now?”

Tom sat up with a slight furrow to his brow, but one more of surprise than anything. “You – you got me a gift? Loki, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did, love.” Loki brushed a hand across his cheek with a grin. “So will you accept my gift, Thomas?”

“Of course I will.”

“Good. Close your eyes.” Tom closed his eyes and after a moment he felt Loki’s hands meet his, forcing his reach over the coffee table until his fingertips met paper. Aged paper. _A book?_ His fingers traced its edges, feeling the old material with a tingle of anticipation. He could only imagine. “All right, open your eyes.”

Tom damn near had a heart attack when he saw what was under his hands. Shakespeare’s first folio. In the flesh. In its physical pages. The original, unaltered words of Shakespeare. _How is this possible? The only copies were preserved in museums and libraries._ “Loki – I don’t – how did you get this?”

“Well I spoke with the young man at the book store while you were shopping, but I couldn’t find anything so he told me about this lovely tome. Something rare. Something special. Something you couldn’t possibly have.” Loki looked suddenly worried as Tom only stared.

“But how in the world did you get it? This belongs in a museum.”

“It is in a museum,” Loki quickly explained. “I went there and saw it myself, but I felt it wasn’t good enough to take you to see it, so I made you a copy. I promise, Thomas, I didn’t steal it. It’s a handcrafted work of my magic alone. I had to learn a whole spell just for this.” Tom heard the panic in his voice, the fear of rejection as Loki continued to stare at the book on the table. “You don’t like it?”

“No!” Tom said, finally finding at least one word. “I am simply at a loss, love. I can’t believe you would go to so much trouble. It is – it is unbelievably perfect! I just can’t believe it, Loki. Thank you – thank you so much.” Loki sighed with relief as Tom leaned across the table and kissed him – kissed him until he couldn’t breathe. “Have I told you I love you?”

“Not today I don’t think,” Loki laughed, nipping his cheek.

“I love you.”

“Just don’t show your friends. Surely you won’t be able to explain its existence without divulging my more than mortal qualities.”

“I shall make it another one of our little secrets,” Tom said with a grin before he leaned back into the sofa feeling utterly wasted on excitement. “My gift seems so subpar now.”

“Impossible,” Loki said before pressing him for the gift in question. Finally he hefted the box from its hiding spot. Loki gently snatched the parcel before delicately unwrapping it. Tom felt instant sympathy for Loki’s recent fear of rejection. Watching his lover open that box, he waited for a response. Any response. As the lid disappeared and he pulled the paper away he stared into the box for the longest time. When he, at last, looked up he looked utterly stunned. “Thomas- these are beautiful. Where did you find them?”

“Well I didn’t actually. I had them custom made for you. Unfortunately I don’t have the magic to do it myself. But there was a very helpful knife maker. They conform to your – well _our_ – measurements. I figured our hands were similar enough. Are they all right?”

“They’re perfect.” He weighed one of the throwing knives in his hand, looking more natural then he’d ever seen him. And he looked more than eager for target practice. And then he finally noted the delicate engravings Tom had requested. Two twined snakes and Loki’s name in runes. Loki all but tackled Tom into the back of the couch, returning his passionate expression of thanks. “My wonderful mortal,” he whispered into his skin. “My perfect _perfect_ mortal. I love you.”

“I love you too, Loki.”

“We’ll have to try them out together! I can teach you. And you can read me something from your new book. It’ll be perfect.”

“Yes. Yes it will.”

As they both wound down from their Christmas highs and a more reasonable hour approached they dined on a pudding not really intended to be indulged for breakfast. Something his mum had sent over – one he’d enjoyed every Christmas for as long as he could remember. And Loki had little complaint over anything sweet.

“So,” Loki began, setting down his empty bowl. “At what point had you intended to tell me that your Father Christmas was completely fictional?”

Tom smiled into his last bite of pudding. He could hear in Loki’s voice that he’d somehow been caught. “Sometime after Christmas,” he said. “I wanted you to enjoy it as I had at least for one year.”

“It was a lovely trick,” Loki said giving him a gentle shove.

“How did you find out?”

“It was actually one of the children I met waiting to see Santa. She told me that he was a lie made up by parents to keep their children from misbehaving. While I didn’t take her seriously – thinking ‘Thomas would _never_ lie to me’ – I investigated and found a few interesting stories in your worldwide web.” Tom could only laugh. “Funny story: the Allfather actually inspired your Santa Claus. And at that point I was certain. Even so, I enjoyed it. This tiny bit of Midgardian magic.”

“Well seeing how the cat’s out of the bag,” Tom said with a grin, fishing into his pajama pocket. “I bought you a phone case too.”

“Ooh! Let me see it!”

Loki frowned when he saw the image on the back and Tom laughed until his lungs were sore. Around the same time he realized Loki wanted an iPhone and began shopping around online to see where best to purchase one, he came across this site of user designed phone cases. And one search led to another, eventually leading him to several pages of cases with his face on them designed by his fans. And he simply couldn’t resist. “Now you can see me all the time!”

Loki rolled his eyes at the absolute hilarity of it, but after a while he snapped the case onto the phone with a tiny hint of a smile. “I’d rather see your real face.” He pecked his cheek before they curled into one another, the warmth dragging them toward sleep again as the sun finally started its rise. “Happy Christmas, Thomas,” Loki yawned into his sleeve. Tom closed his eyes as he felt Loki drift off at last.

“Happy Christmas, darling.”


End file.
